THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


THE  COLLECTION  OF 
NORTH  CAROLINIANA 

ENDOWED  BY 

JOHN  SPRUNT  HILL 
CLASS  OF  1889 


CB 

PU7r 
1892 


UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


I        00032690776 

FOR  USE  ONLY  IN 
THE  NORTH  CAROLINA  COLLECTION 


THIS  TITLE  HAS  BEEN  MICROFILMED 


;  o.'ir.  ,^o.  A-iOS 


THE  LIFE 


OK 


ROBERT  PAIN 


H 


Bishop  of  tie  Mettioflist  Eiiiscopal  Ctiiirct],  SontL 


BY  R.  H.  RIVERS,  D.D., 

Author  of  "Our  Young  IVopIo"  and  "  Mental  and  Moral  riiilosophy.' 


WITH   AN   INTROnrcTIOX   HY 

REV.   yV.   P.    HARRISON,  D.D., 

tiook  Editor  of  the  M.  E.  Cliunh,  South. 


Nashvim,i%  Tknn.: 

Publishing  IIoisk  op  thk  M.  K-  Chikcu,  South. 

liAKBEii  &  Smith,  Agknts. 

1892. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  5'ear  1S81, 

Bt  the  Book  Agents  of  the  METiionisT  Episcopal  Chukoh,  South, 

in  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


CI5 


TO  MARY  AND  MARTHA, 

the  former  the  faithful  wife  of  the  subject  of  this 

biography,  and  the  latter  the  equally  faithful 

wife  of  the  author — devoted  friends  in  their 

early  womanhood,  and  remaining  true  to 

each  other,  to  their  husbands,  and  to 

their  god,  through  all  the 

vicissitudes  of  life — 

This  Volume  is  Most  Lovingly  Dedicated. 


Co 


PREFACE. 

Bishop  Paine,  years  before  his  death,  selected  the  author  as  his 
biographer  on  condition  any  biography  should  be  written.  He  said: 
"  I  am  not  worthy  of  any  thing  more  than  an  obituary  to  l)e  published 
in  our  Church  papers;  but  if  my  friends  should  think  otherwise,  I 
would  be  glad  that  the  work  of  writing  my  life  be  placed  in  your 
hands.  You  have  my  entire  confidence,  and  I  am  willing  to  trust 
vou."  He  afterward  wrote  to  me  to  the  same  effect.  After  his  death 
"the  fiimily,  knowing  his  views,  requested  that  these  vieAVS  be  carried 
out.  In  addition  to  this,  the  Bishops,  at  their  annual  meeting  in 
May,  1883,  concurred  in  the  recpiest  of  the  family. 

In  January,  1884,  diaries  and  other  papers  were  placed  in  my 
hands,  and  in  February  the  work  was  begun.     A  heavy  charge  was 
on  my  hands.     I  had  to  devote  a  part  of  each  day  to  pastoral  visita- 
tion.    Two  sermons  were  to  be  prepared  for  each  Sabbath.     A  week- 
ly prayer-meeting  was  to  be  attended  to,  at  which  a  suitable  talk  was 
to  be  delivered.     All  this  demanded  labor— earnest,  constant,  and 
often  exhausting.     The  diaries  and  papers  were  to  be  carefully  ex- 
amined.    The  work  was  completed  on  June  1.     From  February  till 
June  I  was  in  company  with  the  Bishop.     It  seemed  to  me  that  he 
was  alwavs  present.     I  was  reminded  of  an  artist  who  was  called 
upon  to  take  the  likeness  of  a  deceased  friend.     He  shut  himself  up 
in  his  studio  for  days,  and  communed  with  his  departed  friend.     That 
friend  came  and  sat  for  the  picture.     He  saw  him.     He  seemed  to 
converse  with  him.     He  caught  the  expression  of  his  countenance, 
the  flash  of  his  eye,  and  the  contour  of  his  features.     The  result  was 
an  excellent  likeness.     It  was  life-like  and  exceedingly  accurate.     So 
it  has  been  with  this  writer.     While  alone  in  my  office  it  has  seemed 
to  me  that  ray  dear  old  friend  and  teacher  was  again  by  my  side,  and 
that  I  could  almost  hear  him  speak  and  touch  his  noble  form.     At 
night  he  was  present  in  my  dreams.     Indeed,  I  could  not  sleep.     I 
hardlv  became  unconscious  for  weeks.     So  near  was  he  to  me  both  by 

(5) 


6  PREFACE. 


day  and  by  night  that  it  was  difficult  for  me  to  withdraw  my  atten- 
tion from  him.  I  showed  this  in  the  frequent  references  wliich  I 
made  to  him  as  1  appeared  before  my  people.  My  attention  was 
thoroughly  engrossed.  I  accompanied  him  on  his  trips.  I  sat  again 
in  the  recitation-room  and  listened  to  his  lectures,  delivered  in  that 
clear,  ringing,  musical  voice  which  I  can  never  forget.  I  listened 
again  to  his  thrilling  sermons,  or  bowed  with  him  in  humble  prayer. 
I  got  nearer  to  liira  than  I  ever  did  during  his  life.  I  could  almost 
hear  the  throbbings  of  his  warm  heart,  and  could  see  as  I  never  saw 
before  his  deep  religious  feelings.  Into  his  inner  life,  and  away  down 
into  tlie  deep  chambers  of  his  soul,  I  had  constant  and  it  seemed  to 
me  perfect  access. 

Let  not  the  reader  misunderstand  me.  I  am  no  spiritualist,  no 
enthusiast.  I  simply  mean  to  say  that  I  became  so  thoroughly  and 
so  entirely  absorbed  in  and  with  the  subject  of  this  biography  that  in 
thought  and  feeling  I  was  constantly  with  him  during  the  months  I 
was  engaged  in  writing  the  Life.  I  so  expressed  myself  to  some  of 
my  friends  at  the  time  the  work  was  going  on. 

To  Mrs.  Ludie  Paine  Scruggs  the  author  is  indebted  for  valuable 
information  in  reference  to  that  sad  part  of  his  life  during  which  the 
Bishop  appears  to  have  kept  no  regular  diary.  The  book  makes  no 
pretensions  to  give  a  history  of  the  stirring  times  in  which  the  Bish- 
op lived.  It  is  simply  a  Life  of  Bisho})  Paine ;  and  as  a  man  is  known 
by  the  company  he  keeps,  the  characters  of  those  most  intimately  as- 
sociated with  him  are  briefly  presented.  The  incidents  of  his  career 
are  usually  given  in  chronological  order,  and  embrace  his  whole  life 
from  his  early  boyhood  to  his  death  at  the  advanced  age  of  eighty- 
three  years. 

The  diaries  and  other  papers  furnished  by  the  family  have  been 
of  invaluable  assistance  in  the  preparation  of  this  biography.  Every 
fact  narrated  is  believed  to  be  in  perfect  accordance  with  the  truth. 
Whenever  possible  the  exact  Avords  of  the  Bishop  have  been  given. 
When  this  was  not  possible,  his  ideas  have  been  fully  and  accurately 
expressed.  I  therefore  ask  a  candid  and  charitable  reading  of  this 
Life  of  one  of  our  foremost  men,  and  pray  that  its  perusal  may  be  a 
blessing  to  the  reader. 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  life  of  a  great  and  good  man  is  tlie  property  of  the  age  in 
which  he  lives.  Wlien  that  life  has  heen  spent  in  self-denying  la- 
bors, and  earnest  etibrt  to  advance  the  welfare  of  the  human  race, 
the  example  should  be  recorded  for  the  encouragement  and  instruc- 
tion of  those  who  come  after  us.  In  an  age  of  utilitarian  philoso- 
phy, and  in  a  country  in  which  the  worship  of  mammon  has  attained 
such  jiroportions  as  to  threaten  the  existence  of  society  itself,  we  can- 
not afford  to  permit  the  benefactors  of  true  civilization  and  progress 
to  pass  away  without  monument  or  memorial  of  their  works. 

Making  haste  to  be  rich,  and  coveting  the  luxuries  that  only 
wealth  can  purchase,  the  present  generation  of  our  countrymen  are 
placing  too  low  an  estimate  upon  the  generous  self-abnegation  which 
volinitarily  resigns  the  rewards  of  successful  enterprise  and  the  ac- 
cumulation of  wealth  for  the  purpose  of  devoting  time,  energy,  and 
talent  to  the  moral  and  religious  culture  of  the  poor  and  needy. 
The  merchant,  who  employs  every  faculty  in  the  acquisition  of  fort- 
une, finds  his  reward  in  the  deference  and  respect  which  the  world 
has  always  shown  toward  the  possessor  of  great  riches.  The  politi- 
cian, who  studies  the  arts  and  the  principles  which  lead  to  success 
in  the  political  arena,  obtains  the  desire  of  his  heart  and  finds  his 
reward  in  the  fickle  praises  Avhich  seldom  survive  the  brief  liour  of 
official  station.  In  the  lives  of  all  men  who  have  attained  success, 
and  have  written  their  names  upon  the  pages  of  history,  there  are 
lessons  of  wisdom  which  may  serve  to  guide  the  footsteps  of  others, 
or  to  warn  the  ambitious  aspirant  of  the  dangers  that  lie  in  his  path. 

Tlie  career  of  a  Methodist  preaclier  does  not  ])resent  to  the  super- 
ficial observer  a  theme  of  absorbing  interest.  We  may  expect  no 
startling  incidents,  no  "hair-breadth  escapes,"  no  profoundly  excit- 
ing records  of  heroic  struggles,  of  battles  fought  and  won.  Yet  there 
is  abundant  material  for  the  biographer  and  the  historian  in  the  life- 
stories  of  men  whose  names  are  remembered  only  by  the  few  faithful 

(7) 


8  Introduction. 


friends  who  valued  them  whilst  living,  and  treasure  their  meuiories 
when  they  have  passed  away. 

The  annals  of  a  nation  bear  tlie  names  of  the  few  wlio  have 
marched  in  the  front  of  the  army  of  progress.  Tlie  great  body  of 
the  army,  to  whose  endurance,  fortitude,  and  skill  the  victories  are 
due,  are  unknown  to  fame.  The  wisdom  of  the  great  statesman  who 
piloted  the  English  ship  of  state  through  the  storms  and  perils  of 
the  French  Revolution  has  been  celebrated  by  the  pens  and  tongues 
of  his  countrymen.  But  there  are  only  a  few  discerning  men  who 
have  the  ability  to  see,  and  the  candor  to  acknowledge,  that  the 
Methodist  preachers  in  Cornwall  exercised  a  conservative  influence 
over  the  elements  of  revolutionary  disturbance,  and  thus  preserved  the 
English  nation  from  the  horrors  of  civil  war  and  anarchy.  The  des- 
titution and  poverty  which  justified,  in  the  eyes  of  many,  the  revolu- 
tion in  France,  existed  also  in  England.  But  in  the  British  King- 
dom a  great  man  had  been  commissioned  from  on  high,  and  he  and 
his  followers  preached  the  gospel  of  Christ  to  the  poor,  the  neglected, 
and  the  oppressed,  and  the  hopes  of  heaven  and  eternal  life  sweetened 
the  bitter  cup  of  human  poverty  and  gave  to  the  struggling  poor  of 
England  the  power  to  endure  with  heroism  the  burdens  of  their  lot. 
Thus  the  Wesleyan  Methodist  preachers  became  the  conservators  of 
peace  and  the  prophets  of  a  new  and  happier  era,  whilst  William 
Pitt  stood  at  the  front  and  received  the  credit  for  the  stability  and 
permanence  of  British  institutions. 

To  no  class  of  men  is  American  civilization  more  indebted  than  to 
the  itinerant  Methodist  preachers.  They  have  been  to  a  large  ex- 
tent the  educators  of  the  people.  Following  the  footsteps  of  the 
pioneer,  the  log  meeting-house  was  the  first  building  erected  for  the 
use  of  the  community  at  large  by  the  zeal  and  fidelity  of  the  itiner- 
ant preacher.  He  carried  to  the  remotest  corners  the  message  of 
salvation.  By  liis  instrumentality  neighborhoods  were  bound  togeth- 
er in  religious  ties,  and  the  ambition  to  excel  in  every  department 
of  human  effort  was  fostered  by  his  precepts  and  example.  Few 
graduates  of  colleges  were  among  these  evangelists,  but  they  were 
students  whose  diligence  and  energy  overcame  all  difiiculties.  Early 
opportunities  for  gaining  knowledge  they  had  not,  but  they  improved 
every  moment  of  time;  digested  well  the  books  they  read,  and  em- 
ployed for  the  highest  purposes  the  learning  they  acquired.  Their 
advent  was  an  era  in  the  history  of  the  little  communities  planted 
in  the  great  forests  of  the  West  and  the  South.     A  higher  tone  of 


Introduction.  9 


public  morals  an.l  a  n(.l)kT  outlook  for  life  itself  resulted  from  their 
labors.  They  were  lueu  of  the  })eoi)le,  and  sj)<)ke  the  language  of 
the  people,  but  that  language  was  ennol)led  and  relined  by  the  glo- 
rious truths  of  the  everlasting  gospel.  The  Bible  was  the  one  book 
found  alike  in  the  cottage  and  the  home  of  the  prosperous  man.  The 
words  of  ins])iration  became  a  part  of  the  speech  of  common  life,  and 
the  doctrines  of  the  Bible  were  the  laws  of  society. 

It  is  due  to  the  truth  of  history  to  declare  that  the  American  pul- 
pit has  laid  the  foundation  and  constructed,  in  a  large  degree,  the 
edifice  of  civilization  upon  this  continent.  The  school  and  the  school- 
master have  followed  the  itinerant  {preacher,  but  they  have  come 
only  in  answer  to  the  demand  which  has  been  created  by  the  i)reach- 
ers  of  the  gospel.  The  high  estimate  in  which  the  pioneer  i)reach- 
ers  were  held  by  the  rude,  adventurous,  but  enterprising  settlers  in 
the  wilderness  was  due  to  the  intrinsic  merits  of  these  men  of  CJod. 
Not  a  man  among  them  had  any  expectation  of  acquiring  money, 
or  social  influence,  or  political  power,  by  performing  the  duties  of 
the  ministry.  A  life  of  poverty  and  toil,  of  hardship  and  self-denial, 
presented  itself  at  the  threshold  of  his  career,  but  the  young 
preacher's  heart  was  aflame  with  the  love  of  God,  and  the  love  of 
Christ  constrained  him  to  labor  for  the  souls  of  men.  Feeling  his 
insufficiency  for  this  great  work,  his  constant  appeal  was  to  the 
throne  of  grace,  and  the  Holy  Spirit  clothed  him  with  the  armor 
of  a  warrior,  and  he  w^ent  forth  to  victory.  Conscious  of  his  want 
of  literary  acquirements,  and  knowing  that  the  Holy  Spirit  imparts 
no  gifts  to  encourage  human  idleness,  he  seized  every  moment  of 
leisure  to  improve  his  mind.  Books  of  real  worth  that  were  accessi- 
ble to  him  he  studied  with  diligence,  and  the  knowledge  acipiired 
was  given  to  the  people  whom  he  served.  The  example  was  conta- 
gious. In  every  department  of  intellectual  development  and  distinc- 
tion, in  all  the  walks  of  life,  there  are  men  who  owe  to  the  example 
of  these  itinerant  preachers  the  ambition  to  excel  which  has  result- 
ed in  the  highest  and  grandest  victories,  to  the  greatest  benefit  and 
glory  of  the  commonwealth. 

Among  those  men  who  have  become  the  chief  factors  in  the  sum 
of  moral  and  intellectual  progress  in  this  century,  no  name  stands 
higher  than  that  of  Eobcrt  Paine.  Beginning  life  with  the  dawn 
of  the  nineteenth  century,  he  has  been  a  princij)al  figure  in  ecclesi- 
astical history  for  more  than  sixty  years.  A  youth  of  great  i)romise, 
enjoying  the  few  facilities  of  education  accessible  in  his  time,  he  de- 


10  Introduction. 


voted  himself  to  the  work  of  the  ministry.  He  came  to  legal  manhood 
and  to  full  membership  as  an  itinerant  preacher  nearly  at  the  same  mo- 
ment. With  tireless  assiduity  he  applied  himself  to  the  acquisition 
of  knowledge.  The  lonely  ride  through  the  forest ;  the  cosy  nook 
in  the  cabin  by  tlie  light  of  the  blazing  fire;  the  solitary  spot  Avhere 
the  overhanging  boughs  formed  a  grateful  shade  for  his  forest  study — 
everywliere  and  at  every  time,  when  public  duties  did  not  engross 
his  thoughts,  he  improved  the  opportunity  for  increasing  his  stores 
of  knowledge.  He  studied  the  great  book  of  nature,  and  communed 
with  God  whilst  reading  the  volume  of  his  works.  Rocks,  moimt- 
ains,  valleys,  rivers,  all  had  mysteries  to  be  solved  and  lessons  to 
be  learned.  He  learned  them  well,  and  brought  their  testimony  to 
the  sujjport  and  vindication  of  the  volume  of  inspiration. 

He  entered  upon  the  work  of  the  ministry  in  one  of  the  most  event- 
ful periods  of  Methodist  history.  The  American  Revolution  was  a 
protest  against  the  establishment  of  monarchical  institutions  in 
America,  Jealousy  of  kings  and  kingly  power  and  aristocratic 
pride  and  presimiption  had  been  deeply  inwrought  into  the  fabric 
of  American  societ3\  The  establishment  of  a  government  "of  the 
[>eople,  by  the  people,  and  for  the  people,"  had  created  a  distrust  of 
every  proiK)sition  in  Cliurch  or  State  which  looked  toward  the  cen- 
tralization of  power  in  the  hands  of  one  man,  or  in  tliose  of  a  few 
men.  Fearing  the  tyranny  of  one,  communities  often  surrender 
tliemselves  to  the  tyranny  of  the  many.  It  was  very  natural  that 
the  republican  politics  of  the  nation  should  manifest  itself  in  the 
government  of  the  Church.  The  English  Bishop,  with  his  seat  in 
the  House  of  Lords — a  temporal  as  well  as  spiritual  ruler — Avas  un- 
known in  America,  except  by  the  unenviable  reputation  which  be- 
longed to  manv  of  the  prelates  in  the  mother  countrv.  But  the 
name  was,  in  many  quarters,  the  object  of  suspicion  and  dislike.  Tbat 
some  prejudicesshould  be  formed  against  the  Methodist  Bishops  in  the 
United  States  is  by  no  means  remarkable.  The  plea  that  a  scriptural 
name  ought  to  be  given  to  a  scriptural  office  was  sufficient  with  the 
wise  and  the  reflecting,  but  there  were  many  intelligent  men  who, 
for  purposes  of  their  own,  found  it  profitable  to  use  the  prejudices  of 
tlie  ignorant  and  the  vicious.  It  required  no  little  heroism  in  the 
early  Bishops  of  .\merican  Methodism  to  face  the  criticisms  of  de- 
signing men  and  the  unreasoning  opposition  of  the  multitude.  But 
Francis  Asbury  was  a  man  of  nerve,  and  sustained  l)y  the  conscious- 
ness of  a  pure  purpose,  having  the  glory  of  (iod  and  the  good  of 


Introduction.  11 


nicMi  only  in  viow,  ho  omlured  misrepresentation  and  petty  malice 
and  merciless  persecution  as  a  man  wlio  had  a  charge  committed  to 
him  by  the  great  Head  of  the  Clnirch. 

Early  in  tlie  last  decade  of  the  eighteenth  centnry,  James  O'Kelly 
had  withdrawn  from  the  jNIethodist  Church,  and  the  standard  of  re- 
volt, which  he  set  up  had  many  followers.  He  claimed  that  the  i)Ower 
of  api)ointing  the  preachers  to  their  circuits  and  stations  ought  not 
to  be  lodged  in  the  hands  of  one  man  without  some  court  of  ap{)eal. 
The  Annual  Conference  was  this  court.  Having  failed  in  his  effort 
to  incorporate  this  measure  into  the  economy  of  the  Church,  he  with- 
drew, and  carried  many  with  him.  The  political  situation  was  de- 
cidedly favorable  to  O'Kelly.  There  were  many  leaders  of  political 
opinion  who  were  suspected  of  harboring  the  purpose  of  overthrowing 
the  Re})ublic,  and  introducing  a  Monarchy.  Washington  himself 
did  not  escai)e  from  this  charge  of  treason  to  American  liberty.  The 
liercenessof  this  political  warfare  has  never  l)een  excelled  in  the  history 
of  the  country.  But,  in  the  midst  of  civil  commotions,  ecclesiastical 
dissensions,  and  clerical  secessions,  Asbury  remained  firm  and  pa- 
tient, keeping  himself  to  his  one  work,  disputing  with  no  one,  but 
approving  himself  as  a  man  of  God  and  a  true  Bishop  and  shepherd 
of  the  flock. 

When  the  declining  influence  of  O'Kelly  became  manifest,  and 
the  failure  of  liis  seditious  movement  was  no  longer  a  matter  of 
doubt,  the  controversy  assumed  a  new  })hase.  It  was  claimed  that 
the  preachers  who  were  appointed  to  their  stations  ought  to  exercise  a 
controlling  influence  over  the  men  who  were  authorized  to  make  their 
appointments.  The  presiding  elders,  therefore,  should  be  recognized 
as  the  Bishop's  cabinet,  and  they  should  be  elected  by  the  Confer- 
ence from  among  a  specified  number  of  persons  nominated  by  the 
Bishop.  As  a  measure  designed  to  give  peace  and  rest  to  the  Church, 
this  dangerous  proposition  was  adopted  by  the  General  Conference 
of  1820,  and  Joshua  Soule  was  elected  Bishop  a  few  days  previous  to  the 
passage  of  the  resolution.  After  mature  ccmsideration  the  Bishop  elect 
sent  in  his  resignation,  refusing  to  be  ordained  to  an  oflSce  whose  re- 
sponsibility was  not  lessened  whilst  the  discharge  of  its  duties  had  been 
seriously  embarrassed,  if  not  rendered  impossible,  by  the  action  of  the 
Conference.  Thus,  from  1.S20  to  1824,  the  question  was  kept  open 
until  a  growing  spirit  of  conservatism  caused  the(ieneral  Conference 
to  recede  from  its  dangerous  position.  The  election  and  a>nsecration 
(if  Joshua  Soule,  in  1824,  settled  this  controversy,  so  far  as  the  great 


12  Introdlx'tion. 


body  of  the  Church  and  the  majority  of  her  ministers  were  concerned ; 
but  the  flame  of  dissension  was  still  burning,  and  the  severe  conten- 
tion resulted  in  the  withdrawal  of  several  thousand  members  in  1828, 
who  organized  a  non-episcopal  branch  of  the  Church. 

The  progress  of  events  has  fully  justified  the  action  of  the  emi- 
nent men  who  resisted  the  appeals  of  friends  and  the  threats  of  ene- 
mies in  defense  of  cardinal  principles  which  were  involved  in  the 
measures  of  1820.  The  best  form  of  government,  in  Church  or  State, 
may  become  an  engine  of  oppression  in  the  hands  of  wicked  and  de- 
signing men.  The  worst  form  of  government  may  be  so  administered 
as  to  postpone  for  ages  the  efforts  of  reformers,  because  the  people  are 
not  conscious  of  the  burden  to  which  they  have  submitted,  or  becaiise 
they  fear  the  introduction  of  evils  greater  than  those  to  which  they 
liave  been  accustomed.  But  in  a  system  of  Church  government  which 
deposits  in  the  hands  of  the  people  the  means  by  which  the  author- 
ities of  the  Church  subsist,  there  can  be  little  danger  of  depriving 
the  people  of  their  rights.  The  voluntary  principle  which  prevails 
in  all  denominations  of  Christians  in  the  United  States  is  a  sufficient 
safeguard  against  clerical  oppression.  Especially  is  this  true  of  the 
Methodist  ministry,  who  have  no  legal  means  of  enforcing  an 
obligation  for  the  payment  of  a  salary.  If  the  people  repudiate 
the  claim,  there  is  no  recourse,  there  is  no  court  of  legal  jurisdic- 
tion. 

There  were  good  and  true  men  upon  both  sides  of  the  controversy,  the 
leaders  in  all  instances  being  ministers.  It  is  not  a  little  remarkable 
that  the  first  attempt  to  remodel  the  Methodist  system  of  government 
was  a  movement  in  behalf  of  the  preachers,  whilst  the  issue  which 
was  presented  in  1828  was  made  in  the  name  of  the  people.  That 
there  was  no  great  popular  demand  for  the  representation  of  the  laity 
in  the  legislative  department  of  the  Church  was  proved  by  the  re- 
sults. That  there  was  no  serious  defect  in  the  organization  of  Epis- 
copal M  '  hodism  has  been  demonstrated  by  the  history  of  the  Church. 
The  superiority  of  our  system  of  Church  government,  as  a  conserv- 
ative and  preservative  polity,  is  clearly  shown  by  comparison  with 
the  fortunes  of  Methodism  in  Great  Britain.  Among  the  Wesl cy- 
ans, the  most  jealously  guarded  and  the  most  wisely  tempered  system 
of  making  the  appointments  of  the  preacliers  has  not  secured  the 
body  from  internal  discord,  and  the  erecti<^n  of  independent  Churches. 
The  dissidents  from  the  Wesleyans  number  more  than  one-third  of 
all  the  Methodists  in  Great  Britain.     The  non-episcopal  Methodists 


Introduction.  1 3 


of  tlie  United  States  do  not  exceed  one  in  twenty  of  the  membership 
in  Methodist  C'hnn-hes. 

The  fact  which  causes  the  minister  to  he  prominent  in  all  efforts 
for  change  in  the  fjjovernment  of  the  Church  is  his  constant  care  and 
meditation  upon  the  interests  of  the  cause  to  which  he  liad  devoted 
his  life.  Jiy  degrees,  and  at  the  earnest  solicitation  of  tlie  clerical 
members,  the  laity  became  connected  with  the  business  of  the  Church 
through  the  financial  boards  at  the  sessions  of  the  Annual  Confer- 
ences. Tlie  gradual  growth  of  the  lay  interest,  and  the  demonstra- 
tion of  the  usefulness  of  these  wise  and  prudent  helpers,  produced  at 
last  a  quiet  revolution  in  the  mind  of  the  Church  at  large.  In  18G6 
the  singular  spectacle  was  presented  to  tlie  world  of  a  body  of  min- 
isters, forming  a  General  Conference,  admitting  an  equal  number  of 
laymen  to  the  legislature  of  the  Church  without  a  petition  from  the 
laymen,  or  the  serious  agitation  of  the  question  by  those  who  were 
most  deeply  concerned  in  the  movement. 

Robert  Paine,  a  young  man  of  twenty-four,  was  a  member  of  the 
General  Conference  of  1824,  and  soon  became  the  friend  and  assist- 
ant of  Bishop  McKendree.  By  these  fathers  of  Episcopal  Method- 
ism, McKendree  and  Soule,  the  young  preacher  became  thoroughly 
instructed  in  the  princijjles  of  the  Church  constitution,  and  when, 
twenty  years  later,  the  people  o^  the  South  were  driven  to  the  neces- 
sity of  assuming  an  independent  ^t)sition,  Robert  Paine  was  among 
the  most  prominent  in  the  movement  which  preserved  the  institu- 
tions of  Methodism  in  the  Southern  section  of  the  United  States.  It 
was  in  the  natural  order  of  things  that  he  should  become  one  of  the 
lirst  men  elected  to  the  episcopal  office  by  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church,  South. 

For  thirty-six  years  Bishop  Paine  exercised  the  office  of  a  Bishop 
in  the  Church  of  God.  How  ftvithfully  he  filled  this  office  the  fol- 
loAving  pages  will  testify.  The  record  connects  his  name  with  every 
Annual  Conference,  and  his  memory  is  precious  to  thousands  of 
preachers  who  loved  him  for  his  own  sake,  and  esteemed  him  for  the 
many  qualities  which  distinguislied  his  official  life. 

No  estimate  of  a  Bishop's  labors  can  be  formed  by  those  who  are 
unacquainted  with  the  diflficulties  of  what  is  called  the  "stationing- 
room."  It  is  impossible  that  one  man  should  be  acquainted  with 
the  gifts,  graces,  and  qualifications  of  a  thousand  itinerant  preachers. 
Nor  can  he  possibly  know  the  peculiar  circumstances  which  exist  in 
the  hundreds  of  circuits  and  stations  to  which  the  preachers  are  ap- 


1 4  Introduction. 


pointed.  It  is  necessary,  therefore,  that  the  Bisliop  sliould  have 
godly  advisers,  men  of  sound  judgment,  disinterested  motives,  and  a 
controlling  desire  for  the  advancement  of  the  kingdom  of  Christ.  It 
is  essential,  moreover,  that  the  person  who  is  responsible  for  the  ap- 
pointments he  makes  should  liave  the  right  to  select  the  men  who 
are  to  help  him  in  making  them.  If  there  is  one  man  in  the  service 
of  the  Church  who  ought  to  be  thoroughly  impartial  in  the  distribu- 
tion of  these  appointments,  it  is  the  Bishop  who  is  responsible  for 
them.  If  he  be  a  man  of  God,  he  dare  not  allow  any  selfish  motive 
to  control  him.  If  he  be  a  wise  man,  he  will  not  allow  himself  to 
be  controlled  by  any  other  motive  than  the  welfare  of  the  Church. 
The  Bishop  is  dependent  upon  the  voluntary  contributions  of  the 
people  for  his  support.  It  would  be  an  act  of  folly  to  allow  himself 
to  be  governed  by  any  unworthy  influence,  for  he  must  know  that 
there  are  critical  eyes  upon  him,  and  no  decision  that  he  makes  will 
be  accepted  simply  because  he  has  made  it.  It  must  commend  itself 
to  the  judgment  of  those  who  are  acquainted  with  the  facts,  and  the 
slightest  appearance  of  favoritism  would  be  instantly  detected. 

It  will  be  seen,  therefore,  how  weighty  this  responsibility  is,  when 
the  mere  error  of  judgment  may  be  taken  for  the  perversity  of  an 
uncompromising  will,  or  the  gratification  of  a  personal  motive. 
Nothing  but  thorough  consecration  to  God,  and  continual  depend- 
ence upon  the  guidance  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  can  qualify  a  man  for 
this  delicate  and  difficult  work.  That  Bishop  Paine  was  a  man  of 
thorough  consecration  to  the  service  of  the  Church,  his  biographer 
has  fully  proved  in  this  volume.  Beginning  his  career  with  ample 
means,  whose  natural  increment  would  have  placed  him  without 
effort  among  the  wealthy  men  of  his  generation,  he  gave  his  time 
and  his  property  to  the  Lord  of  the  harvest,  and  quietly  endured 
the  reverses  of  fortune  which  followed  the  civil  war.  Denying  him- 
self the  delights  of  a  pleasant  home,  he  entered  upon  long  and  fa- 
tiguing journeys,  in  perils  by  land  and  water,  often  under  circum- 
stances that  would  have  justified  his  absence  from  the  sessions  of  hi? 
Annual  Conferences. 

A  Methodist  Bishop  ought  to  be  a  good  judge  of  men.  He  should 
liave  a  competent  knowledge  of  human  character.  There  are  many 
occasions  that  call  for  the  gift  which  approximates  the  apostolic 
power  of  "discerning  the  spirits"  of  men.  There  are  times  wlicn 
modest  merit  needs  encouragement,  and,  in  some  instances,  it  must 
be  discovered  :ui(l  brought  forwnrd  into  the  siuilight  of  o})portunity. 


Introduction.  15 


Some  men  are  never  promoted  to  i)l:ues  for  which  they  are  fully 
competent,  because  they  lack  that  self-assertion  which  is  frequently 
mistaken  for  talent.     A  Bishop  rarely  enjoys  the  privilege  of  listen- 
ing to  the  sermons  of  beginners  in  the  ministry.     It  is  (lo\ibtful  if 
he  could  acquire  much  information  concerning  tiie  real  abilities  of 
those  voung  men  whom  he  chances  to  hear.     Embarrassment  is  the 
prevailing  virtue  of  truly  great  men  when  they  feel  themselves  in 
the  presence  of  their  superiors.     I  have  called  it  a  virtue,  for  it 
proves  the  absence  of  that  personal  vanity  which  is  detestable  in  a 
minister,  and  because  1  believe  that  Bishop  Paine  was  one  of  the 
finest  examples  of  real  pulpit  power— greatest  when  recognizing  his 
responsibility  most,  but  trembling  in  the  presence  of  a  great  occa- 
sion.    He  feared  not  the  face  of  man,  but  he  realized  the  presence 
of  his  Master,  and  trembled  lest  the  duty  of  the  hour  should  be  im- 
perfectly performed.     More  than  most  men  who  are  capable  of  lofty 
flights  of  oratory,  he  was  dependent  upon  the  symjjathy  of  his  audi- 
ence.    He  knew,  therefore,  by  his  own  experience  that  a  certain 
measure  of  embarrassment  in  the  pulpit  is  the  necessary  re<iuisite  to 
the  highest  su(;cess,  and  he  was  never  inclined  to  form  a  judgment 
of  others  from  opportunities  which  would  have  given  a  false  impres- 
sion of  himself.     In  his  intercourse  with  itinerant  preachers  he  was 
always  studying  them,  as  he  studied  every  thing  around  him,  that 
his  knowledge  might  be  made  available  for  the  advancement  of  the 
cause  of  Christ. 

One  of  the  qualifications  of  a  Methodist  Bishop  is  the  ability  to 
appreciate,  by  practical  experience,  the  sentiments  of  the  Apostle 
Paul,  when  he  said :  "  I  know  both  how  to  be  abased  and  I  knoAv 
how  to  abound;  everywliere  and  in  all  things  I  am  instructed  both 
to  be  full  and  to  be  hungry,  both  to  abound  and  to  sufler  need."  The 
man  who  holds  in  his  hands  to  a  large  extent  the  temporal  welfare 
of  helpless  women  and  children  should  understand  what  it  is  to  be 
hungry  and  to  "sufler  need."  He  who  has  never  heard  the  howl  of 
the  wolf  at  his  door-step  can  scarcely  understand  the  pressure  of  that 
pinching  want  which  frequently  incapacitates  a  minister  for  the  work 
intrusted  to  him.  It  is  easy  to  preach  endurance  of  the  winter's  cold 
when  the  preacher  prepares  the  sermon  by  the  warmth  of  a  genial 
fire.  It  is  no  difficult  matter  to  exhort  men  to  trust  in  Providence 
when  our  barns  are  full  and  there  is  no  reasonable  apprehension  of 
lacking  bread  to-morrow;  but  he  who  hiows  how  to  be  abased — he 
who  has  looked  into  the  faces  of  wife  and  children,  after  revolving 


16  Introduction. 


tlie  problem  of  periling  his  integrity  by  accumulating  debt  in  the 
face  of  stern  doubt  as  to  the  ability  to  pay — he  is  thereby  better  pre- 
pared with  tearful  eye  and  prayerful  heart  to  conmiend  to  others  the 
example  of  the  birds  that  have  neither  barn  nor  store-house. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  absence  of  the  ability  "to  know  how  to 
abound  "  must  tend  to  narrowness  of  views  and  that  depression  of  the 
soul  which  leads  to  poverty  of  mental  and  spiritual  resources.  He 
who  has  the  knowledge  of  which  the  apostle  speaks  is  prepared  for 
any  enterprise  which  the  Spirit  of  God  presents  to  his  courage  and 
endurance,  assured  of  the  bounty  that  has  never  failed  to  honor  the 
largest  draft  which  faith  has  ever  drawn  upon  the  bank  of  Provi- 
dence. "To  know  how  to  abound"  is,  therefore,  to  make  a  right  use 
of  the  earthly  riches  which  God  has  placed  in  our  hands,  not  using 
them  for  the  gratification  of  selfish  appetites,  but  as  stewards  of  the 
Master,  distributing  to  others  as  freely  as  we  have  received.  It  is 
not  necessary  that  the  name  of  the  donor  should  be  recorded  on  sub- 
scription lists  or  engraved  upon  marble  in  commemoration  of  prince- 
ly gifts.  It  is  enough  if  the  hand  has  been  ever  open  to  the  appeal 
of  the  i^oor  and  needy,  and  that  the  grace  of  charity  lias  been  en- 
hanced by  the  kindly  voice  and  the  tone  of  sympathy  which  color 
the  gift  of  silver  with  the  ruddy  radiance  of  gold. 

Of  Bishop  Paine  it  can  be  justly  said  that  he  had  the  knowledge 
of  these  two  extremes  of  abundance  and  want. 

At  the  termination  of  the  civil  war  he,  in  common  with  many 
thousands  of  our  Southern  countrymen,  was  deprived  of  the  larger 
part  of  his  j^roperty,  and  the  remainder  was  so  greatly  depreciated 
in  value  as  to  make  its  possession  a  tax  upon  mind  and  heart,  whilst 
it  continued  an  uncertain  source  of  income.  Added  to  this  stroke  of 
adversity  was  the  burden  of  an  obligation  assumed  in  behalf  of  an- 
other, which  by  patient  and  persevering  industry  he  was  enabled 
to  discharge.  To  the  man  of  honor  there  is  no  greater  trial  than 
the  struggle  for  the  payment  of  debts  for  which  he  has  received  no 
equivalent  whatever.  But  bravely  facing  the  issue.  Bishop  Paine 
endured  the  toil  and  anxiety  which  for  himself  and  family  he  before 
had  never  known.  This  "service  of  tables"  was  exceedingly  din- 
tasteful  to  a  man  whose  whole  heart  was  in  the  work  of  the  minis- 
try, but  it  gave  no  occasion  for  the  diminution  of  his  labors  in  tlie 
episcopal  office.  The  rest  at  home  was  alloyed  by  the  burden  of  care, 
l)ut  it  was  not  made  the  occasion  for  the  postponement  of  the  en- 
gagement or  the  excuse  for  the  neglect  of  duty.     It  was  only  among 


Introduction.  17 


!.is  familiar  friends  that  mention  was  ever  made  of  the  hardshij)S  of 
the  dark  and  perih)iKS  days  whose  anxieties  added  many  a  furrow  to 
his  brow.  He  liad  known,  in  other  days,  *' how  to  abound."  The 
Providence  whicli  had  guided  his  footsteps  hitlierto  was  leading 
him,  in  the  evening-time  of  life,  by  a  way  he  had  not  known. 

Of  his  tenderness  of  heart  the  records  may  be  found  in  the  memo- 
ries of  those  who  have  never  been  turned.away  empty  from  his  door. 
Averse  to  the  display  of  a  virtue  which  he  held  as  fundamental  to 
Christianity,  he  made  no  publication  of  his  charita])le  deeds,  but 
ihcy  and  their  beneficiaries  are  among  the  number  of  those  who  wel- 
comed him  "to  everlasting  habitations."  Those  only  who  have 
shared  his  anxiety  in  the  council-room  can  testify  to  the  deep  in- 
terest he  felt  in  the  welfare  of  the  preachers  who  were  stationed  by 
him  at  the  Annual  Conferences.  Afflicting  scenes  there  must  be, 
and  he  must  be  less  than  human  who  can  look  into  the  face  of  a  man 
of  (rod  who  has  been  appointed  to  a  hard  field  of  labor,  where  self- 
denial  and  suffering  are  inevitable,  without  feeling  the  great  deeps 
of  sympathy  and  compassion  stirred.  Sleepless  nights  and  days  of 
anxiety  pass  by  all  unknown  to  those  who  are  the  causes  of  these 
mental  trials,  and  the  strong  lines  which  sometimes  mark  the  face 
of  the  Bishop  who  reads  the  unwelcome  news  to  some  of  his  brethren 
are  often  made  more  rigid  by  the  effort  to  suppress  the  sympathy 
which  demands  an  utterance. 

But  there  are  other  interests  that  must  be  represented  at  the  An- 
nual Conference.  If  the  preachers  and  their  families  call  for  the  ex- 
ercise of  sympathy  upon  the  part  of  the  Bishop  who  makes  their 
appointments,  the  Church,  whose  Avelfare  is  at  stake,  must  not  be 
forgotten.  The  carefulness  which  leaves  no  means  of  information 
unemployed,  and  the  sagacity  which  determines  the  adaptation  of  men 
to  the  diversified  fields  of  labor,  are  qualifications  for  the  episcopal 
office  which  cannot  be  overlooked  without  serious  damage  to  the  cause 
of  Christ.  Accessible  to  the  humblest  member  of  the  flock,  indulgent 
to  none  at  the  cost  of  candor  and  the  claims  of  truth.  Bishop  Paine 
discharged  these  duties  as  one  who  must  give  an  account  to  the  Chief 
Sliepherd,  and  preserved  a  conscience  void  of  offense  toward  God  and 
man. 

A  Methodist  Bishop  should  be  a  man  of  firmness.  Decision  of 
character  is  essential  to  the  episcopal  office.  A  man  who  can  be 
turned  about  by  every  appeal  to  his  tenderness  of  heart,  or  by  con- 
siderations which  gratify  the  claims  of  personal  friendship,  will  lo.<»e 
2 


18  Introduction. 


the  esteem  of  those  competent  to  understand  him,  and  the  respect  of 
those  who  try  but  fail  to  use  liim.  On  the  other  hand,  he  should 
be  open  to  conviction,  to  the  appeals  of  reason,  and  magnanimous 
enough  to  acknowledge  an  error  when  he  is  awai-e  that  he  has  com- 
mitted it.  A  man  who  considers  himself  infallible,  and  thinks  him- 
self degraded  by  being  proved  in  the  wrong,  has  no  qualifications 
that  can  compensate  for  a  weakness  that  is  fatal.  Of  all  men  whom 
1  have  known,  Bishop  Paine  possessed  a  character  most  exquisitely 
balanced  in  this  respect.  Whether  by  slow  or  rapid  induction  he 
had  formed  an  opinion,  he  was  always  ready  to  reopen  the  question 
and  view  it  under  the  new  light  that  was  brought  to  bear  upon  it. 
Even  when  his  opinion  had  been  publicly  expressed,  the  conviction 
of  his  judgment  was  reversed,  and  the  acknowledgment  was  made,  if 
in  the  meantime  the  facts  appeared  which  proved  his  error.  On  a 
memorable  occasion,  he  spoke  hastily  and  unadvisedly  in  open  Con- 
ference, and  by  doing  so  greatly  wronged  one  of  the  young  ministers. 
No  sooner  was  the  fact  made  apparent  to  him  than  Bishop  Paine, 
with  a  majestic  presence,  and  in  a  tone  of  voice  that  expressed  far  more 
than  words  can  convey,  publicly  confessed  his  error  and  craved  the 
pardon  of  the  brother  whom  he  had  wronged.  It  was  this  nobility 
of  character  tliat  made  him  truly  great.  A  supreme  love  of  truth 
for  its  own  sake,  and  that  largeness  of  soul  that  confesses  an  error  as 
publicly  as  it  has  been  committed,  are  virtues  that  belong  only  to 
nature's  noblemen. 

Acquainted  with  all  the  vicissitudes  of  itinerant  life;  sympathiz- 
ing with  every  grade  and  degree  of  ministerial  fortune  and  ability; 
with  tenderness  of  heart  which  is  called  womanly  because  it  approx- 
imates the  divine;  with  unalterable  resolution  when  reason  gave  un- 
qualified approvaf;  with  heroic  courage  equal  to  any  emergency  of 
time  and  place;  with  inflexible  will  whose  strength  was  chastened  by 
submission  to  the  will  of  God;  with  modest  diffidence,  distrusting 
himself  and  giving  all  praise  and  glory  to  the  Master  whose  service 
was  his  delight — Robert  Paine  fought  the  good  fight,  finished  his 
course,  kept  the  faith,  and  has  ascended  to  the  throne  of  his  Ee- 
deemer,  to  receive  the  crown  of  eternal  life. 

W.  P.  Harbison. 

Nashville,  Tenn.,  September,  1884. 


CONTENTS. 

Chapter  I.                                      ^^^^ 
Ancestry— Birth— Boyhood 23 

Chapter  II. 
Conversion— Entrance  on  the  Work  of  an  Itinerant  Preacher. . .  20 

Chapter  III. 
Volunteers  to  go  Sontli- Is  Sent  to  Tuscaloosa  Circuit— Does 
Faithful  Work— Attends   Conference— Sent   to   Murfreeshoro 

— Sent  to  Lebanon ^^ 

Chapter  IV. 
Presiding  Elder — Delegate  to  General  Conference — Assists  Bish- 
op McKendree  in  His  Address,  etc 33 

Chapter  V. 
Improving  as  a  Preacl.er- Marriage   to  Miss  Susanna  Beck — 
Stationed  in  Nashville— His  Work— Presiding  Elder— College 

President 38 

Chapter  VI. 
Conference  at  Pulaski,  Tennessee— Falling  Meteors— President  of 
La  Grange  College — Gifts  and  Graces 43 

Chapter  VII. 

0 

Studying  Among  the  Kocks— College  Life— Rigid  Requirements 
— Dangers — Courage 49 

Chapter  VIII. 

Unselfishness — Courage — Sorrow 55 

Chapter  IX. 
Second   Marriage  — Death— Grief— Revival— Marriage  to   Miss 
Mary  Eliza  Millw  ater — Family 50 

Chapter  X. 

Professor  Tutwiler- Honors — Agents 02 

(19) 


20  COXTENTS. 


Chapter  XL  tagr 

Carlos  G.  Smith — College  Life  Closing — Work  Accomplished. . .   G8 

Chapter  XIL 
Love  for  the  Church 72 

Chapter  XIII. 
The  General  Conference  of  1844 — The  Sequence 77 

Chapter  XIV. 
General  Conference  of  1846 — Struggles — Victory 81 

Chapter  XV. 
Bisliop  Paine  on  His  Eounds 85 

Chapter  XVL                                 , 
Fulfilling  His  Mission 91 

Chapter  XVII. 

Great  Missionary  Meeting — Terrible  Accident — Wonderful  Prov- 
idence     94 

Chapter  XVIIL 

Legal  Question — Tennessee  Conference 98 

Chapter  XIX. 
Duty  in  the  Midst  of  Danger 102 

Chapter  XX. 
In  the  Great  West — Returns  Home 107 

Chapter  XXL 

General  Conference — Cholera — Bascom — Excitement  in  the  East 
— Work — Bereavement Ill 

Chapter  XXII. 
Long  Absence — Death  Abroad  and  at  Home — Powerful  Preaching.l  17 

Chapter  XXIIL 
Third  General   Conference  —  New    Bishops  —  Removal    of  La 
Grange  College 1 21 

Chapter  XXIV. 

Education  in  Alabama — The  Southern  University — Providence — 
Perils— Law 120 


CONTENTS.  21 


Chapter  XXV.  page 

General  Conference  at  Nasliville  —  Bishop  Soule — Episcopal 
Tour 134 

Chapter  XXVI. 

AVaUli-nii;ht  —  John  Hersey  —  Buchanan —  Interesting  Visit — 
Threatenings  of  War 140 

Chapter  XXVII. 
The  Civil  War — Sorrow  upon  Sorrow 146 

Chapter  XXVIII. 
"Notes  of  Life" — Seeking  for  Truth — Dr.  Bascom — Political  Is- 
sues—  President  Monroe  —  Missions  Among  the  Indians — De 
Soto 152 

Chapter  XXIX. 

"Notes  of  Life"  Continued — The  "Vexed  Question" — Presiding 
Elder  Controversy  —  Change  of  Conference  Lines — Sectarian- 
ism— Divorce — Divining  Rod — Keligious  Controversy — James 
W.  Fariss 167 

Chapter  XXX. 

"Notes  of  Life"  Continued — Marriage  of  Ministers — Administra- 
tion of  Discipline — Popular  Amusements — Financial  Straits.  .187 

Chapter  XX XL 

"Notes  of  Life"  Continued — Removal  of  Indians — Holy  Living 
— Sketches  of  Bishop  Bascom — Church  Polity tiOo 

Chapter  XXXII. 

General  Conference  of  1866 — Changes  Made — Lay  Element — 
New  Bishops 222 

Chapter  XXXIII. 
Southern  University — Bishop  Soule's  Death — Memorial  by  Bish- 
op Paine 227 

Chapter  XXXIV. 

Still  AVorking  —  Depressed  —  Sick  —  Unconscious  for  Mouths  — 
I*rovidential  Recoverv — Renewed  Preaching  with  Power 242 


22  CONTENTS. 


Chapter  XXXV.                                  page 
Finisliing  the  Life  of  Bishop   McKendree— Hard   at   Work- 
Growing  Old  Gracefully 250 

Chapter  XXXVI. 
Working  Like  a  Young  Man 254 

Chapter  XXXVIL 
Death  of  Bishop  Andrew — Bishop  Paine  in  Louisville 259 

Chapter  XX  XVI I L 
Central  University 2G2 

Chapter  XXXIX. 

Inner  Life — Vanderbilt  University — General  Conference 271 

Chapter  XL. 
Seventy-Fifth  Anniversary — Domestic  Afflictions — Heroic  Devo- 
tion to  Duty 276 

Chapter  XLI. 
Still  SufTering  and  Working— Dr.  Palmer's  Visit 292 

Chapter  XLII. 
"Notes  of  Life"— Wesley  Hall— A  Fraternal  Meeting 294 

Chapter  XLIII. 
Bishop  Paine  Retiring — Dr.  McFerrin's  Speech — Bishop  Pierce's 
Address — Great  Feeling — Death  of  T.  O.  Summers — Ordain- 
ing New  Bishops — Returning  Home  to  Die 299 

Chapter  XLIV. 
Closing  Scenes — Triumphant  to  the  Last 304 

Chapter  XLV. 
Summing  L^p  of  His  Life  and  Character 310 


LIFE  OF  BISHOP  PAINE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Ancestry — Birth — Boyhood. 

ABOUT  the  year  1699  Dr.  James  Paine  lauded  in  Amer- 
ica. He  was  an  Englishman,  and  had  been  educated 
in  London  as  a  physician.  After  remaining  a  short  time 
in  New  England,  he  settled  in  what  is  now  Person  county, 
North  Qirolina.  He  was  a  man  of  affairs,  and  erected  the 
first  brick  house  ever  seen  in  Person  county.  He  had  four 
sons,  one  of  whom  was  named  Robert.  He  was  the  grand- 
father of  the  Bishop,  and  was  married  to  Elizabeth  Miller 
in  1772.  James  Paine  was  the  fruit  of  this  marriage,  and 
was  born  on  March  18,  1776.  Robert,  the  grandfather  of 
the  Bishop,  was  also  a  physician,  and  was  among  the  patriots 
of  the  Revolutionary  war,  and  was  commander  of  a  company. 
After  he  close  of  the  war  he  was  elected  to  the  Legislature 
of  his  native  State,  and  became  a  prominent  member.  He 
was  a  sensible,  pious,  and  generous-hearted  Christian  gentle- 
man. He  died  in  1808,  universally  honored  and  respected. 
James,  the  oldest  son  of  Dr.  Robert  Paine,  was  the  father 
of  the  Bishop.  He  was  educated  at  the  University  of  North 
Carolina,  and  was  married  to  Miss  Nancy  A.  AVilliams  on 
January  7,  1799.  He  was  for  many  years  the  efficient  clerk 
of  the  Hisrh  Court  in  his  native  countv,  and  held  the  office 
until  his  removal  to  Oiles  county,  Tennessee,  in  1814.  He 
was  a  modest,  qniet,  sensible,  nnd  useful  Cliristian  gentleman. 
He  never  soutrht  office,  but  Nvas  iur  many  years  a  leading 

(23) 


24  LIFE  OF  ROBERT   PAINE,   D.D. 

magistrate  in  Giles  county.  He  brought  up  a  large  family 
of  sons  and  daughters,  of  whom  Robert  was  the  oldest.  He 
was  a  gentleman  of  the  olden  times,  possessed  of  large  wealth, 
owning  and  cultivating  a  fine  plantation  in  the  rich  county 
of  Giles.  The  Bishop  says  of  him :  "  My  father  had  no  as- 
pirations for  either  civil  or  military  honors,  although  he  was 
prevailed  upon  to  act  as  Judge  of  the  County  Court,  and 
was  for  many  years  a  justice  of  the  peace."  He  was  re- 
markable for  sound  judgment,  integrity  of  principle,  and 
Christian  consistency.  He  was  a  gentleman  of  fine  culture 
and  spotless  reputation,  pleasant  in  conversation,  just  in  his 
dealings,  wise  in  counsel,  and  possessed  of  the  highest  do- 
mestic virtues.  He  was  thrice  married.  Robert,  the  sub- 
ject of  this  memoir,  was  born  in  Person  county.  North  Car- 
olina, November  12,  1799. 

It  will  be  seen,  as  we  accompany  him  through  a  life  of 
more  than  eighty  years,  that  he  was  in  all  respects  worthy 
of  a  noble  ancestry.  His  father  of  fine  English  blood  and 
his  mother  of  Welsh  descent  could  both  look  with  hope  to 
the  future  of  their  first-born.  He  was  bright  and  promis- 
ing, and  gave  no  little  joy  to  the  youthful  couple.  He  soon 
exhibited  those  elements  of  character  which  marked  him  all 
along  his  eventful  life.  He  was  in  no  respect  inferior  to 
those  who  save  to  him  the  heritage  of  a  eood  name.  He  was 
a  modest,  brave  boy,  and  from  his  early  boyhood  always 
loved  and  told  the  truth.  He  always  prided  himself  on  his 
love  for  the  truth,  which  he  had  always  practiced  from  his 
boyhood  to  manhood  and  from  manhood  to  old  age.  While 
at  school  in  North  Carolina  he  made  rapid  pi-ogrcss.  The 
family  had  scarcely  settled  quietly  down  in  their  Tennessee 
home  before  they  learned  there  was  an  excellent  school  in 
the  neighborhood.  This  was  under  the  management  of 
AVilliam  Brown,  a  graduate  of  the  University  of  North 
Carolina,  and  a  brother  of  the  Hon.  A.  V.  Brown,  who 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  25 

afterward  became  distiiiiruished  as  a  politician,  and  was  at 
one  time  Governor  of  the  State  of  Tennessee  and  at  another 
a  mcnd)er  of  Congress,  and  was  also  a  member  of  the  cabi- 
net of  President  Polk.  William  Brown  was  a  good  teacher, 
and  was  always  proud  of  having  had  Robert  Paine  as  his 
pu])il.  The  study  of  the  classics  now  largely  engaged  his 
attention,  and  here  he  laid  the  foundation  of  his  education. 
Greatly  to  his.  regret,  the  school  closed  in  a  year,  and  he 
spent  a  year  as  clerk  in  a  mercantile  house  in  Pulaski.  He 
was  active,  intelligent,  polite,  and  popular.  Although  full 
of  life  and  fond  of  fun,  he  allowed  nothing  to  interfere  with 
his  duties  to  his  employer.  He  was  thoroughly  honest  and 
very  methodical  and  accurate  in  attending  to  business,  still 
the  business  did  not  suit  him.  He  thirsted  for  knowledge. 
He  desired  to  perfect  himself  in  the  classics,  in  which  he 
was  already  quite  proficient,  and  to  make  himself  master 
of  the  higher  mathematics.  It  so  happened  that  a  good 
opportunity  was  afforded  in  a  school  of  high  grade  taught 
by  Dr.  Wier  and  Professor  Alexander  in  the  village  of 
Lyunville,  Giles  county,  Tenn.  Thither  he  went  in  Jan- 
uary, 1816.  He  went  to  work  Avith  his  usual  vigor.  He 
pursued  his  studies  with  such  success  that  he  was  soon  ready 
for  the  sophomore  class  of  the  colleges  of  that  day. 

It  has  been  stated  again  and  again  that  he  was  educated 
at  Chapel  Hill,  and  that  he  was  a  classmate  of  President 
James  K.  Polk.  This  was  not  true.  He  did  not  carry  out  his 
purposes  in  that  direction.  His  father  greatly  desired  him 
to  do  so.  He  had  him  ready  to  start  to  Cumberland  Col- 
lege, at  Nashville,  but  his  sou  felt  it  to  be  his  duty  to  enter 
at  once  upon  the  work  of  the  ministry.  "Conscience  set- 
tled the  matter  then,  and  he  was  never  disposed  to  unsettle 
it."  He  was  a  good  scholar,  thorough  in  English  and  profi- 
cient in  the  Latin  and  Greek  languages  and  in  mnthomatics. 
He  also  studied  French  and  liecame  ac(piainted  with  Hebrew. 


26  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 


CHAPTER    II. 

Conversion — Entrance  on  the  Work  of  an  Itinerant 

Preacher. 

THE  parents  of  Robert  Paine  were  up  to  this  time  mem- 
bers of  no  Church.  They  were  inclined  to  the  Baptist 
denomination.  The  training  of  Robert  was  moral  but  not 
religious.  He  was  taught  to  be  truthful  and  honorable,  and 
always  had  the  greatest  respect  for  religion.  When  a  room- 
jnate  of  his  at  Dr.  Wier's  school  uttered  infidel  sentiments, 
he  said  in  reply:  "These  sentiments  of  yours  are  intolerable 
to  me.  I  cannot  room  with  an  infidel.  After  to-night  we 
part,  and  I  go  to  another  boarding-house."  He  had  been 
tausfht  and  believed  the  Bible  to  be  true,  and  the  fear  of 
being  an  infidel  determined  him  at  once  to  separate  from 
his  room-mate.  His  conversion  was  on  this  wise:  He  had 
been  the  subject  of  deep  religious  impressions  fi-om  early 
life.  These  feelings  were  intensified  by  the  death  of  his 
mother.  She  was  soundly  converted,  and  died  uttering  as 
her  last  words,  "Peace,  peace."  She  was  a  good  mother, 
and  her  dying-words  had  a  powerful  effect  upon  his  young 
and  susceptible  heart.  About  a  year  after  her  death  he  wjis 
greatly  affected  by  the  preaching  of  the  Rev.  Thomas  Tj. 
Douglass,  who  had  been  connected  with  his  father  as  clerk 
in  a  mercantile  house  in  North  Carolina,  when  they  wei-e 
both  boys.  A  camp-meeting  was  to  be  held  at  Pisgah,  in 
Giles  county,  in  October,  1817.  Douglass  was  the  presid- 
ing elder,  and  Miles  Harper  preacher  in  charge.  At  tliis 
meeting  his  friend  Sterling  Brown  went  forward  as  a  seekrr 
of  religion.  Robert,  although  deeply  affected  by  his  friend'.-? 
going  forward,  failed  to  do  so,  and  went  alone  into  the  neigh- 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  27 

boring  forest  and  offered  up  prayer,  sought  religion,  and  de- 
termined to  be  a  Christian.  Many  were  converted,  but  he 
Avas  not  among  the  number.  He  could  not  overcome  his 
deep-seated  repugnance  to  what  he  called  "religious  sensa- 
tionalism," hence  he  gave  no  public  indication  that  he 
was  a  seeker  of  religion.  Yet  he  was  in  earnest.  Alone 
in  the  forest,  he  resolved  to  search  the  Scriptures,  and  fi-oni 
them  to  learn  the  way  of  life.  He  left  the  camp-meeting 
to  carry  out  this  purpose.  He  continued  reading  his  Bible 
and  praying  until  the  following  Sabbath,  October  9,  1817. 
There  was  a  meeting  at  the  house  of  Davis  Brown.  Thither 
Robert  went,  and  there,  bowing  before  God  in  prayer,  he 
resolved  to  give  himself  to  the  work  of  saving  his  soul. 
Before  the  meeting  closed  he  was  soundly  converted.  The 
evidence  w\as  strong  and  clear.  He  felt  the  burden  of  sin 
removed  and  that  his  heart  was  renewed  by  the  baptism  of 
the  Holy  Ghost.  He  was  satisfied.  He  knew  that  he  was 
born  again.  He  was  happy.  Love  to  God  and -man  was 
shed  abroad  in  his  heart  by  the  Holy  Ghost.  He  was  not 
noisy,  yet  he  was  so  overpowered  by  a  sense  of  God's  redeem- 
ing and  forgiving  love  that  all  the  darkness  of  the  past  was 
made  luminous  and  every  doubt  and  fear  removed.  From 
that  day  to  the  hour  of  his  death  he  never  doubted  his  con- 
version. For  sixty-five  years  he  celebrated  in  his  heart,  and 
often  in  grateful  words,  the  return  of  the  day  which  marked 
the  anniversary  of  his  conversion.  His  conversion,  so  bright 
yet  so  calm,  filling  him  with  the  love  of  God,  was  followed 
by  his  immediate  connection  w^ith  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church.  About  the  same  time  Hartwell  and  Sterling 
Brown  were  also  converted,  and  by  the  advice  of  the  pre- 
siding elder,  the  Rev.  Thomas  L.  Douglass,  these  young 
men  went  to  the  Tennessee  Conference,  which  was  opened  at 
Franklin,  Tenn.,  October  30,  1817.  Robert  had  not  yet 
been  baptized,  and  of  course  had  not  been  fullv  admitted 


28  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 

into  the  Church.  During  this  session  of  the  Conference  he 
received  the  ordinance  of  baptism  by  pouring.  The  Rev. 
Miles  Harper  administered  the  ordinance.  Our  young  con- 
vert was  deeply  impressed  by  the  Conference.  *'  The  session 
■was  held  in  a  narrow,  long,  low  school-house  near  the  old 
Methodist  Church.  Bishops  Robert  R.  Roberts  and  Enoch 
George  presided  alternately.  The  sermon  of  Bishop  Rob- 
erts on  Sunday,  at  the  court-house,  on  Hebrews  ii.  3,  was 
deeply  impressive,  and  under  it  there  was  a  great  display  of 
divine  power.  The  Conference  embraced  the  whole  State  of 
Tennessee,  all  of  Kentucky  south  of  Salt  River,  and  a  por- 
tion of  South-western  Virginia.  The  religious  impression 
made  upon  the  community  was  very  great.  A  revival  be- 
gan early  in  the  session  and  continued  to  the  close.  Scores 
were  converted.  Our  young  soldier  felt  the  call  of  God, 
*' Go  preach."  He  had  not  been  licensed.  Not  one  month 
had  passed  since  he  first  felt  the  glow  of  divine  love  and 
rested  in  Christ.  He  could  not  be  admitted  into  the  Con- 
ference without  a  pal2:)able  violation  of  the  Discipline  of 
the  Church.  Yet  he  must  preach.  He  had  once  in  the 
absence  of  the  preacher  been  called  upon  to  deliver  a  ser- 
mon. His  text  was,  "  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and 
are  heavy-laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest."  The  word  had 
its  effect,  for  God  was  with  him.  So  it  was  determined  to 
take  the  young  man  and  put  him  to  work.  Some  time 
after  the  Conference  he  returned  to  Giles  county,  and  at 
a  quarterly-meeting  Conference,  held  at  Rehoboth,  he  was 
licensed  to  preach.  He  was  really  not  licensed  until  Jan- 
uary, after  he  had  been  on  the  circuit  some  months.  He 
was  immediately  engaged  by  the  presiding  elder,  the  Rev. 
T.  L.  Douglass,  to  travel  on  the  Nashville  Circuit  with 
Miles  Harper  as  senior  preacher.  Miles  Harper  was  no 
ordinary  man.  He  had  been  largely  instrumental  in  the 
conversion   of  his   youthful  colleague,  had  baptized  him, 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  29 

and  possessed  his  largest  confidence.  It  was  well  they  should 
be  thus  intimately  associated.  It  was  a  blessing  to  one  so 
young  to  have  such  a  friend  as  Milos  Harper.  "  Burning  in 
zeal,  eloquent  in  speech,  witii  an  unusual  degree  of  unction 
in  his  public  prayers  and  sermons,"  he  nearly  always  touched 
the  hearts  of  his  hearers.  At  a  camp-meeting  he  was  almost 
irresistible.  While  he  was  preaching  persons  would  invol- 
untarily rise  to  their  feet  and  press  toward  the  preacher,  and 
often  kneel  and  cry  for  mercy.  He  was  almost  a  natui-al 
orator,  with  vivid  imagination,  deep  feeling,  great  courage, 
and  a  strong,  clear,  and  musical  voice.  Such  w^as  the  ma-i 
who  became  the  adviser  and  instructor  of  the  youth  Paine 
in  his  first  efforts  to  preach  the  gospel.  This  was  the  old 
method  of  preparing  our  young  men  for  the  ministerial  of- 
fice. We  had  no  theological  schools.  The  circuit,  encom- 
passing many  square  miles,  was  then  the  only  school  of  the 
prophets.  So  on  the  Nashville  Circuit,  with  Miles  Harper 
as  his  example  and  instructor,  Robert  Paine  first  learned  to 
preach  the  gospel.  He  says:  "We  had  the  pleasure  of  see- 
ing the  w  ork  of  the  Lord  prosper  in  our  hands.  Many  were 
converted  and  some  sanctified." 

The  next  Conference  opened  at  Nashville  on  October  1, 
1818.  Bishops  McKendree  and  George  presided.  At  this 
Conference  twenty-six  were  admitted  on  trial,  of  whom  Rob- 
ert Paine  was  one.  He  was  appointed  in  charge  of  Flint 
Circuit.  He  was  still  a  youth  in  his  teens,  but  he  did  not 
hesitate.  Brave,  zealous,  prudent,  and  faithful,  he  was 
blessed  with  a  revival  continuing  through  the  year.  He 
says:  "One  hundred  and  sixty  souls  were  converted  at  two 
camp-meetings,  a  general  revival  going  on  all  around  the 
circuit,  an  increase  of  two  hundred  and  thirty  members, 
and  all  was  peace  and  love.'* 


30  LIFE   OF   ROBERT   PAINE,   D.D. 


CHAPTER   III. 

Volunteers  to  Go  South — Is  Sent  to  Tuscaloosa  Circuit — 
Does  Faithful  Work  —  Attends  Conference  —  Sent  to 

MURFREESBORO SeNT  TO   LEBANON. 

OCTOBER  1,  1819,  the  Confereiice  again  met  in  Xash- 
ville.  A  call  was  made  for  volynteers  to  go  South. 
Robert  Paine  at  once  offered  his  services  and  was  accepted. 
He  was  appointed  to  Tuscaloosa  Circuit.  Here  he  had  all 
the  difficulties  to  encounter  incident  to  a  new  country.  The 
streams  were  without  bridges,  and  frequently  he  risked  his 
life  in  crossing  them.  The  settlers  were  often  many  miles 
apart,  and  frequently  he  had  to  go  without  a  road  through 
the  dense,  unbroken  forests.  He  says :  "  My  life  was  often 
in  imminent  peril,  but  out  of  all  these  troubles  the  Lord 
delivered  me."  Here  he  formed  many  permanent  friend- 
ships, to  which  he  loved  to  recur  in  all  his  subsequent  life. 
Dr.  Robert  L.  Kennon,  a  prince  in  Israel,  a  man  of  the 
hisrhest  talents  and  loftiest  Christian  virtues,  was  amono; 
these  early  friends.  He  did  not  live  to  see  his  young  friend 
a  presiding  Bishop  in  the  Methodist  Church,  but  he  did  live 
to  see  him  advanced  to  high  position,  adorning  all  the  walks 
of  refined  social  life,  raising  high  the  banner  of  the  cross, 
a  teacher  in  Israel  of  exalted  worth,  and  eagerly  pursuing 
the  path  which  his  youthful  feet  were  then  treading,  and 
which  has  been  made  illustrious  by  apostles  and  martyrs 
along  all  the  ages.  Dr.  Kennon  himself  was  among  the 
greatest  and  best  of  our  Southern  preachers.  His  sun  set 
at  noon,  but  it  shone  with  ineffable  brightness  to  the  last. 
No  man  did  more  for  the  cause  of  God  in  Alabama  than 
this  early  and  life -long  friend   of  the   young   preacher. 


BTSIIOP  OF  THE  U.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  31 

This  woj-k  uas  three  huiulred  and  twenty- five  miles  in 
circuit,  and  embraced  twenty -eight  appointments  in  four 
weeks. 

October,  1 820,  tlie  Tennessee  Conference  was  held  in  Hop- 
kiusville,  Ky.  No  bishop  was  present.  Robert  Paine  was 
apparently  ruined  in  health  by  the  severe  labors  of  the  year 
just  closed.  He,  however,  went  uj)  to  the  Conference  on  horse- 
back, and  was  admitted  into  full  connection,  though  not  or- 
dained. This  year  he  was  stationed  at  Murfreesboro.  He 
I'.ad  access  to  one  of  the  best  libraries  in  the  State.  He 
read  history,  science,  and  literature  with  an  avidity  and  a 
]^rotit  rarely  equaled.  His  thirst  for  knowledge  was  being 
satisiied.  He  was  a  learner,  and  the  best  books  were  his 
teachers.  He  wrote  rigid  analyses  of  the  works  read.  He 
!  ecame  enamored  with  natural  science.  He  read  chemistry, 
astronomy,  physics,  and  enjoyed  the  reading.  He  read  Shake- 
speare, and  appreciated  the  great  dramatist.  He  read  Mil- 
ton, and  was  filled  with  rapture  as  he  followed  the  flights  of 
his  imperial  imagination.  Then  his  Bible  and  the  stand- 
ards viere  not  neglected.  He  made  great  improvement  in 
preaching.  His  language  became  refined  and  elegant.  His 
imagination  seemed  inspired.  He  surpassed  the  expectation 
of  his  friends  and  won  upon  the  community  and  the  Church 
as  few  young  men  ever  did.  Sterling  Brown  was  then  the 
wonder  of  Tennessee.  His  enthusiasm  drew  with  more  than 
magnetic  power.  He  was  all  aflame  with  love  and  zeal.  He 
excelled  in  almost  every  department  of  sound  eloquence.  His 
command  of  language  seemed  almost  inexhaustible.  His 
power  of  description  was  exhibited  in  the  highest  form  of 
word-painting.  The  picture  was  right  before  the  hearer, 
filling  him  with  wonder,  startling  him  with  terror,  melting 
him  with  its  tenderness,  or  winning  him  with  love.  But  in 
no  respect  was  Sterling  Brown  the  superior  of  Robert  Paine, 
w  hile  in  varied  learning,  thorough  culture,  delicate  and  ele- 


32  LIFE  OF   KOBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 

gaiit  taste,  Paine  was  actually  surpassing  all  the  young  men 
of  his  age. 

November,  1821,  the  Conference  met  at  Salem,  Bedford 
county,  Tenn.  On  November  11  our  young  preacher  was 
solemnly  ordained  a  deacon  by  Bishop  McKendree,  and 
was  returned  to  Murfreesboro  and  Shelbyville.  This  year 
Avas  as  the  past,  and  was  profitable  to  all.  The  people  Avere 
delighted,  and  he  Avas  rejoic*^.d  because  of  the  opportunity 
afforded  for  continued  improvement.  The  next  Tennessee 
Conference  was  held  in  East  Tennessee,  and  he  Avas  taken 
violently  ill  of  a  bilious  fe\^er.  He  AA'as  sick  for  se\'en 
Aveeks,  and  his  life  Avas  despaired  of.  He  himself  had  no 
hope  of  living  until  his  faithful  friend  Rev.  W.  B.  Peck 
was  conversing  with  him  about  the  plan  and  manner  of  his 
burial.  He  said:  "I  felt  a  confidence  that  I  should  get 
well.  I  commenced  at  once  to  improA^e,  and  finally  recov- 
ered. This  is  the  Lord's  doing,  bless  his  holy  name! "  Im- 
mediately upon  his  recoA^ery  he  Avent  to  his  appointment, 
Avhich  Avas  at  Lebanon  and  Franklin.  He  did  not  arrive 
until  about  the  middle  of  January,  1823.  He  continued  to 
groAV  in  fiivor  AA'ith  God  and  man,  as  aa^s  shoAvn  at  the  next 
Conference,  held  in  Huntsville,  Ala.,  November  26,  1823. 
Here  he  was  elected  and  ordained  elder,  and  elected  a  dele- 
gate to  the  General  Conference.  He  Avas  appointed  presid- 
ing elder  of  the  Forked  Deer  District.  From  this  time  on 
he  is  ahvays  found  in  the  front  ranks.  Preaching  before  he 
Avas  licensed  by  the  Church,  traA^eling  a  circuit  in  less  than 
one  month  after  his  conversion,  a  stationed  preacher  before  he 
Avas  tAventy-one  years  old,  a  presiding  elder  and  a  delegate 
to  the  General  Conference  at  the  age  of  tw^enty-four  years. 
From  this  time  on  he  attended  CA'ery  General  Conference,  as 
delegate  or  Bishop,  until  his  death — fifteen  in  all,  and  in  nine 
of  Avhich  he  presided  as  Bishop.  Seldom  has  any  man  among 
us  risen  so  rapidly,  and  certainly  not  one  more  deservedly. 


Tusiior  OF  Tin:  m.  i:.  ciiukcu,  south.  33 


CHAPTER   IV. 

PuEsiDiNc;  Elder — 1)fli;<;atk  to  (Ienkkal  Conference — 
Assists  Uisiioi'  ^McKendree  in  His  Address,  etc. 

THE  Forked  Deer  District,  to  wliieh  Kobert  Taiiu;  wiis 
appointed  at  the  Conference  which  began  itvS  session  at 
Huntsville,  Ala.,  November  26,  1828,  embraced  a  hirue 
scope  of  country.  It  extended  from  Florence,  Ala.,  to  the 
iMissitssippi  River  and  to  the  line  of  Kentucky,  embracing 
the  "  Purchase,"  and  also  extended  all  along  the  northern 
boundary  of  the  State  of  Mississippi — a  territory  considei-- 
ably  larger  than  that  now  occupied  by  the  present  Memphis 
Conference.  Early  in  January  the  young  presiding  elder 
set  out  on  his  mission.  His  fii'st  quarterly-meeting  was  on 
the  Bigbee  Circuit.  He  preached  with  great  liberty  and 
success,  and  after  preaching  on  Sunday  came  very  near  los- 
ing his  life.  He  says:  "After  preaching,  as  I  was  going 
off  with  Father  Brewer,  I  got  my  foot  hung  in  the  stirrup. 
My  horse  became  alarmed,  and  dragged  me  under  him  and 
along  the  road,  tramping  over  me  and  kicking.  Just  as  he 
started  at  full  speed  to  run  between  a  stump  and  the  fence, 
where  I  must  have  been  instantly  killed.  Divine  Providence 
released  my  foot,  and  I  escaped  unhurt.  This  is  to  me  one 
of  the  strongest  and  surest  pledges  that  my  God  is  my  guard. 
O  that  I  may  love  and  serve  him  more  faithfully !  My  soul, 
praise  and  adore  him!"  This  was  by  far  the  most  diffi- 
cult work  to  which  he  had  been  appointed.  He  often  had 
to  lodge  in  a  log-cabin  of  only  one  room,  lighted  by  pine- 
knots,  and  uncomfortably  crowded  with  people.  He  gives 
an  account  of  having  to  spend  one  night  in  an  open  cabin, 
in  which  there  were  but  two  beds  for  seven  adult  jiersons. 
3 


34  LIFE  OF   ROBERT  PAIXE,   D.D. 

In  speaking  of  these  trials,  he  says:  "I  thank  God  that  I 
envy  neither  the  rich  nor  the  great.  I  feel  that  I  am  dis- 
charging my  duties.  The  people  are  very  poor,  honest,  and 
pious.  I  was  never  better  satisfied.  I  am  happy  in  relig- 
ion, and  not  afraid  to  die.  This  evening  I  have  been  much 
blessed.     O  how  I  do  realize  the  poet's  words! 

Lord,  liow  secure  and  blest  are  they 

Who  feel  the  joy  of  pardoned  sin; 
Sliould  storms  of  wrath  shake  earth  and  sea, 

Their  minds  have  heaven  and  peace  within." 

Again  he  says :  "  I  have  labored  with  my  own  hands  until 
they  are  blistered  and  very  sore.  Am  studying  a  work  on 
chemistry.  Country  full  of  wolves,  bears,  and  panthers. 
Thank  God  I  have  continued  peaceful,  and  that  I  am  grow- 
ing !  I  desire  more  humility,  zeal,  and  love.  Glory,  glory 
be  to  God  for  pure  and  sweet  religion !  "  I  have  made  these 
extracts  from  his  diary  to  show  how  amidst  crosses,  hardships, 
and  even  dangers,  he  was  sustained  by  the  grace  of  God,  and 
w^s  rising  to  a  higher  life.  His  studies  WTre  not  neglected. 
By  day  and  night,  on  horseback  and  in  the  humble  cabin  of 
the  pioneer,  he  was  pursuing  his  studies.  He  kept  himself 
busy  all  the  time.  If  necessary  he  would  help  a  poor  brother 
])ut  up  a  fence  or  build  a  stable,  or  assist  in  any  needful  work, 
until  his  hands  were  blistered  almost,  and  forced  him  to  stop. 
If  the  wolves  and  bears  were  alarming  the  women  and  kill- 
ing the  stock,  he  would  shoulder  a  gun  and  accompany  his 
host  in  the  chase,  and  then  at  night  he  was  found  studying 
the  profoundest  works  on  natural  science  then  at  his  com- 
mand. He  says:  "Finished  w^ork  on  natural  philosophy. 
Pleasing  and  sublime  study."  But  the  most  gratifying  part 
of  his  experience  as  a  presiding  elder  is  his  growth  in  grace 
and  his  almost  rapturous  joy  when  he  finds  that  he  has  been 
instrumental  in  doing  good.  He  says :  "  Blessed  be  God  that 
I  have  been  so  honored  as  to  be  instrumental  in  the  salvation 


Risrior  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHunrii,  south.  •>•> 


of  souls.  I  have  been  often  tempted  to  thijik  that  there  are 
no  real  seals  to  my  ministry.  Away  with  such  thoughts! 
Lord,  make  me  more  humble,  patient,  zealous,  and  holy. 
God  in  his  wisdom  may  keep  me  from  knowing  the  good 
1  may  be  instrumental  in  accomplishing,  but  I  trust  I  shall 
sec  in  eternity  many  happy  souls  whom  I  have  led  to  Christ. 
For  this  I  am  willing  to  suffer  cold  and  hunger,  and  indee  1 
all  other  privations.  O  my  soul,  awake  to  the  importance  of 
the  ministry!  How  anxious  I  should  be  to  bring  to  glory 
and  to  save  immortal  souls!  God  of  omnipotence,  clothe 
me  with  divine  energy,  and  help  me  so  to  preach  and  exercise 
myself  as  to  be  able  to  count  thousands  of  souls  as  stars  to 
my  crown  in  eternity.  Spirit  of  God,  rest  upon  me  and  at- 
tend my  labors."  Again  he  says:  "It  is  my  heart's  desire 
to  be  a  useful,  holy,  and  powerful  minister  of  Christ,  and 
see  the  work  revive  all  over  the  district.  I  pray  for  my 
preachers,  that  they  may  be  as  flaming  seraphs  fi'om  on  high, 
sent  on  a  mission  of  eternal  importance."  It  is  no  marvel 
that  the  cause  of  God  prospered  in  his  hands.  He  wiffe 
abundant  in  labors,  preaching  whenever  he  had  opportu- 
nity. He  flamed  like  a  seraph  himself,  and  imparted  his 
spirit  largely  to  his  preachers.  He  had  converts  at  most 
of  his  quarterly-meetings,  and  was  himself  hungering  and 
thirsting  for  perfect  love.  He  was  a  man  of  one  work. 
His  consecration  was  entire.  His  lips  seemed  to  be  touched 
with  a  live  coal  from  the  altar.  A  vein  of  deep  piety  was 
exhibited  in  all  his  public  ministrations  and  in  his  private 
walk.  He  was  a  close  student  that  he  might  become  a  more 
useful  man.  He  consecrated  all  his  knowledge  to  God. 
He  brought  every  power  w4th  which  God  had  invested  him, 
and  laying  all  upon  the  altar,  said,  "  Lord,  I  am  thine." 

After  a  round  on  the  district,  he  had  to  leave  for  the  Gen- 
eral Conference  in  Baltimore.  He  started  in  :March  in  com- 
pany with  Bishop  McKendree  and  the  Key.  Thomas  L.  Doug- 


''^fi  TJFE  OF  r.OBERT  PAINE,  D.D. 

lass  and  wife,  'i^hey  did  not  get  a  palace  car  at  Xasliville 
and  arrive  at  Baltimore  in  twenty-six  hours.  The  old  Bishop 
was  in  a  carriage  and  the  rest  on  horseback.  They  crossed 
the  Cumberland  Mountains  into  East  Tennessee,  and  thence 
into  North  Carolina  and  through  Virginia  to  Baltimore.  It 
took  them  nearly  six  weeks  to  accomplish  the  journey.  It 
seems  now  almost  incredible  that  Mrs.  Douglass,  who  weighed 
more  than  two  hundred  pounds,  should  have  been  able  to 
accomplish  such  a  journey  on  horseback.  Of  this  trip 
Bishop  Paine  writes  in  his  "  Notes  of  Life : "  "  It  would  be 
unnecessary  and  too  tedious  to  dwell  upon  the  incidents  of 
that  long  trip  over  mountains  and  bad  roads,  or  to  repeat 
by  narrative  the  sufferings  endured  by  my  loved  and  vener- 
ated charge,  Bishop  McKendree,  and  how  often  I  bathed 
his  aching  and  swollen  feet  after  a  hard  day's  travel,  and 
sought  by  self-denial  to  get  him  a  night's  rest.  Passing 
through  North  Carolina,  visiting  my  relations,  and  thence 
through  Petersburg  and  Richmond,  Virginia,  we  arrived  at 
Baltimore  on  May  1,  1824.  I  was  sent  with  the  Bishop  to 
the  house  of  William  Watkins,  a  merchant  living  in  Light 
street,  where  we  found  a  hearty  welcome  in  an  intelligent 
Methodist  family.  The  memory  of  Mrs.  Watkins  and  of 
that  precious  circle  is  still  fresh  and  sweet  after  the  lapse 
of  fifty-eight  years."  The  number  of  delegates  was  one 
hundred  and  thirty-four,  of  whom  Robert  Paine  was  the 
youngest.  The  address  of  the  Bishops  was  prepared  under 
the  direction  of  Bishop  McKendree,  but  it  was  the  compo- 
sition of  the  youthful  delegate.  He  WTote  and  rewrote  it. 
He  subjected  it  to  the  closest  criticism  both  by  himself  and 
the  old  Bishop.  He  spared  neither  pains  nor  labor  to  make 
every  word  the  very  best  that  could  be  selected,  and  to  have 
every  sentence  without  a  fault  and  beyond  criticism.  He 
always  said  that  its  preparation  involved  the  greatest  labor, 
but  that  it  was  to  him  a  real  benediction.     It  opened  up  to 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  87 


liiiii  a  new  field,  and  caused  him  to  study  more  thoroughly 
the  constitution  of  the  IMethodist  Ei)isco]\al  Church.  It 
was  during  the  preparation  of  this  address  that  he  laid  the 
foundation  for  that  ri<rid  and  accurate  construction  of  ec- 
clesiastical law  for  which  he  hecame  famous  during  his  long 
service  as  a  Bishop.  The  General  Conference  of  1824  was 
a  most  important  one  in  the  annals  of  Methodism,  hut  it  is 
needless  here  to  enter  into  any  detail  of  its  work.  At  its 
close  our  young  presiding  elder  returned  as  quickly  as  possi- 
ble to  his  district.  He  spent  the  time  in  preaching,  holding 
camp-meetings,  and  more  thoroughly  organizing  the  work 
on  the  Forked  Deer  District.  Cheerfully,  bravely,  con- 
scientiously had  he  labored  in  his  Lord's  vineyard. 


J^H  LIFE  OF   KOKEKT   PAINE,   D.l). 


CHAPTER  V. 

Impkoving  as  a  Preacher — Marries  Miss  Susanna  Beck — 
Stationed  in  Nashville — His  Work — Presiding  Elder — 
College  President. 

WE  now  see  Robert  Paine  developed  into  a  preacher  of 
very  high  order.  He  had  unction.  He  had  variety. 
He  was  deeply  spiritual,  and  often  thrillingly  eloquent.  His 
imagination  was  capable  of  the  highest,  grandest  flights. 
It  was  difficult  for  him  to  curb  it.  Its  creations  were  some- 
times almost  bordering  on  the  extravagant,  but  they  startled 
the  people  by  their  originality,  and  moved  them  by  their  viv- 
idness. He  w^as  even  then  felt  to  be  the  rising  man  in  the 
Methodist  Church.  And  yet  his  life  was  one  of  the  great- 
est self-denial.  Well  educated,  brought  up  in  the  best  soci- 
ety, with  the  finest  prospects  of  wealth  and  fame,  capable  of 
distinguishing  himself  in  law  or  medicine,  and  of  shining  in 
politics,  he  surrendered  all  to  Christ.  Like  Moses,  the  serv- 
ant of  God,  he  preferred  the  reproach  of  Christ  to  all  the 
honors  and  treasures  that  this  world  could  afford. 

At  the  close  of  the  Coirference-year  Robert  Paine  and 
Susanna  Beck  were  united  in  the  holy  bonds  of  matrimony. 
She  was  the  daughter  of  John  E.  Beck,  a  prominent  lawyer 
of  Nashville,  and  a  granddaughter  of  General  James  Rob- 
ertson, the  pioneer  of  Middle  Tennessee.  I  knew  her  well, 
and  can  testify  to  her  exalted  character.  She  was  of  hand- 
some person,  and  in  every  way  attractive.  Her  manners 
were  characterized  by  great  modesty  and  refinement.  She 
was  possessed  of  rare  intelligence,  and  was  gifted  in  con- 
versation. She  was  amiable,  prudent,  and  deeply  pious, 
and  was  a  helpmeet  to  her  husband. 


lUSHor  OF  rnK  m.  k.  rmiirii,  south.  39 

On  the  25th  day  of  November,  1824,  the  Conference 
o])enc(l  its  session  at  Cohinibia,  Tenn.  At  its  close  Robert 
Paine  was  read  out  for  Nasshville.  He  entered  immediately 
upon  his  pastorate.  He  became  at  once  identified  with  his 
people.  His  congregations  were  the  largest  that  had  ever 
attended  upon  the  ministry  of  a  Methodist  preacher  in  that 
young  city.  His  influence  constantly  increased.  He  be- 
came a  power  for  good.  He  was  caressed  and  flattered. 
He  continued  humble  and  prayerful.  He  laid  down  these 
principles,  by  which  he  would  govern  his  conduct  and  keep 
himself  unsoiled :  "  Be  not  too  familiar  with  any  one.  Too 
great  intimacy  is  often  injurious.  When  I  feel  a  wrong 
spirit  rising  within  me  I  will  be  silent.  Words  are  like  oil 
on  fire.  I  will  never  do  myself  what  I  condemn  in  others. 
It  is  a  great  shame  for  a  preacher  to  do  what  he  does  not 
and  cannot  approve  in  others.  Nothing  but  grace,  grace 
can  save  my  soul."  He  continued  a  hard,  close  student. 
Besides  his  Bible  and  theological  works,  he  studied  hisr 
tory  and  astronomy,  and  employed  himself  often  in  compo- 
sition. He  was  returned  to  Nashville  at  the  ensuing  Con- 
ference. 

During  these  years  A.  L.  P.  Green  and  John  B.  McFer- 
rin,  together  with  John  M.  Holland  and  G.  W.  D.  Harris, 
had  been  admitted  into  the  wf  rk  of  the  itinerant  ministry. 
Methodism  was  on  rising  ground.  Holland  became  a  great 
power,  and  dying  while  still  in  his  prime,  left  an  immortal 
influence  behind  him.  Harris,  too,  was  a  man  of  great 
ability  and  large  influence.  He  is  gone,  but  his  children 
still  show  the  power  of  religious  culture  and  the  lasting  influ- 
ence of  consecrated  talents.  Green  and  McFerrin  were  for 
a  long  time  co-workers  in  building  up  the  cause  of  Christ 
in  the  city  of  Nashville.  While  all  honor  is  due  to  these 
noble  brethren,  and  while  the  venerable  McFerrin  still 
stands  solid  as  a  block  of  granite,  sustaining  and  advancing 


40  LIFE  OF  KOIJEKT  I'AIXE,   D.D. 

all  the  interests  of  true  religion,  it  is  safe  to  say  no  man 
ever  did  more  for  the  cause  of  God  in  Nashville  than  Rol> 
ert  Paine.  For  years  after  he  left  the  State  an  appointment 
for  him  to  preach  would  draw  larger  congregations  than 
could  be  called  together  by  any  other  man.  All  honor  to 
the  Youngs  and  Kelleys,  the  Sawries  and  Hargroves,  and 
the  rest  who  have  had  charge  of  churches  in  Nashville,  and 
who  have  helped  to  make  that  city  a  great  center  of  Chris- 
tian influence  throughout  the  land ;  but  to  none  of  them  is 
our  holy  religion  more  indebted  than  to  Robert  Paine,  who 
laid  the  foundation  so  deep  and  strong  more  than  fifty  years 
ago.  He  continued  in  Nashville  as  station  preacher  and  pre- 
siding elder  of  the  Nashville  District  until  the  Conference 
of  1829,  which  was  held  at  Huntsville,  Ala.,  in  the  month 
of»  November  of  that  year.  At  that  Conference  he  was  ap- 
pointed Superintendent  of  La  Grange  College,  Alabama. 
He  thought  it  was  like  Zion,  and  so  wrote,  "  Beautiful  for 
situation,  the  joy  of  the  whole  earth."  From  the  top  of 
this  mountain  was  presented  one  of  the  most  beautiful  views 
upon  which  the  eyes  ever  rested.  Stretching  along  from 
its  base,  abounding  in  fertility,  in  a  high  state  of  cultiva- 
tion, and  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see,  was  the  magnificent 
Tennessee  Valley.  The  Tennessee  River  flowed  through  it 
like  a  thread  of  silver,  incr^sing  its  beauty  and  adding  to 
its  fertility.  The  flourishing  town  of  Huntsville,  which  has 
always  been  the  pride  of  North  Alabama,  was  at  the  eastern 
end,  and  it  extended  west  to  the  territory  then  occupied  by 
the  Indians  in  North  Mississippi.  Tuscumbia,  Florence, 
Leighton,  and  many  rich  plantations,  on  which  were  splen- 
did mansions,  were  in  full  view.  At  that  time  the  village 
of  La  Grange  had  a  population  of  some  four  hundred  peo- 
l)le.  They  were  mostly  planters  who  had  gone  thither  for 
health.  The  Rev.  Daniel  P.  Bester  was  conducting  a  flour- 
ishing school  for  young  ladies.     The  outlook  was  hopeful. 


BISnOr  OF* THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  41 


The  -whole  scene  ^vas  inspiring.  The  young  President  had 
been  unwittingly  preparing  for  this  very  field  of  labor. 
During  these  years  of  study  he  had  been  fitting  himself 
for  this  ^vork  \vithout  ever  thinking  that  he  should  be 
called  away  from  his  regular  and  loved  employ  of  preach- 
ing the  gospel.  At  Nashville  he  had  become  intimately 
associated  with  the  Rev.  Philip  Lindsley,  the  President  of 
the  University.  Appreciating  his  talents  and  learning,  Dr. 
Lindsley  had  conferred  upon  him  the  degree  of  A.M.,  and 
the  Trustees  had  elected  him  to  a  place  in  the  Board  of 
Trust.  So  he  was  not  unfamiliar  with  the  method  of  con- 
ducting colleges.  He  knew  human  nature,  and  was  born 
to  rule.  His  excellent  practical  common  sense  now  stood 
him  in  hand.  He  had  learned  to  keeii  books  when  he  w^as 
a  merchant's  clerk,  and  this  was  of  prime  importance  ni 
managing  the  funds  of  the  institution.  His  consecrated 
piety  enabled  him  to  wield  a  mighty  religious  influence 
among  the  boys.  Soon  there  was  a  great  revival.  Many 
were  the  young  converts.  Collins  D.  Elliott,  tli^  son  of  an 
itinerant  Methodist  preacher  in  Ohio,  aided  largely  in  the 
revival.  He  took  charge  of  the  young  men,  and  formed 
theni  into  a  large  college  class.  Once  a  week  he  met  his 
class,  and  soon  he  became  one  of  the  most  useful  and  suc- 
cessful leaders  in  the  Church.  He  was  himself  a  deeply 
religious  young  man,  and  his  training  at  home  and  at  Au- 
gusta College,  Kentucky,  admirably  fitted  him  for  his  work. 
Deeply  emotional,  full  of  zeal,  conscientious,  earnest,  and 
often  powerful  in  prayer,  apt  to  teach,  and  giving  to  each 
member  the  instruction  needed,  he  made  his  class-room  a 
Bethel— a  very  house  of  God — to  the  young  men  and  boys 
who  in  such  large  numbers  had  embraced  the  Saviour. 

Soon  the  Trustees  prevailed  upon  the  efficicnl  Superin- 
tendent to  lay  aside  his  modesty  and  accept  the  entire  sit- 
uation.    In  this  the  Faculty  fully  concurred,  and  in  a  year 


42  LIKE  OF   KOBKRT   PAINI?:,   D.D. 

or  two  Roliert  Paine  was  regularly  declared  the  President 
of  La  Grange  College.  In  no  department  of  our  great 
work  is  there  greater  strain  upon  all  the  powers  of  the 
conscientious  laborer  than  in  this  of  education.  To  Presi- 
dent Paine  were  committed  all  the  interests  of  the  college. 
It  was  his  business  to  select  instructors,  and  recommend 
them  to  the  Board.  He  was  to  attend  to  the  finances.  His 
financial  ability  was  fully  brought  into  requisition,  and  no- 
bly did  he  meet  his  responsibilities.  Without  one  cent  of 
endowment,  without  the  necessary  buildings,  without  local 
patronage,  and  without  the  appliances  and  fixtures  essential 
to  large  success,  he  entered  into  this  work  of  the  Chui'ch. 
He  was  an  active  member  of  the  Board,  and  urged  forward 
nil  those  measures  that  tended  to  give  the  institution  a  char- 
acter w^hich  w^ould  enable  it  t(3  increase  its  patronage  and 
extend  its  influence.  In  a  short  time  Professor  Sims  was 
called  to  the  chair  of  Languages  in  Randolph-Macon  Col- 
lege, to  the  head  of  which  Stephen  Oliu  was  called.  About 
the  same  tj^ie  Professor  Hudson  was  elected  to  the  chair  of 
Mathematics  in  the  Alabama  University.  C.  D.  Elliott 
succeeded  Professor  Sims,  and  W.  H.  Ellison,  the  son-in-law 
of  Dr.  Capers,  was  called  to  the  chair  of  Mathematics."' 


lUSlloi'  OF  THE  M.  K  CHL'KCII,  SOUTH.  4o 


CHAPTER      VI. 

Conference  at  Pulaski,  Tennessee — Falling  Meteors — Pres- 
ident OF  La  Grange  College — Gifts  and  Graces. 

TT  was  in  the  full  of  1838  that  I  first  saw  President  Paine. 
1  I  was  attending  my  first  Conference  in  the  town  of  Pu- 
laski, Giles  county,  Tenn.  I  was  standing  with  a  few  min- 
isters of  my  class  in  front  of  the  Methodist  Church.  One 
of  them  said,  "There  they  come,"  meaning  the  Committee 
of  Examination.  The  chairman  of  this  committee  Avas 
President  Paine.  He  was  then  in  the  prime  of  manhood, 
just  thirty-four  years  old.  His  movements  were  the  per- 
fection of  ease  and  grace.  His  form  was  so  faultless  that  it 
Avould  have  served  as  a  model  for  the  Apollo  Belvedere. 
He  was  in  perfect  health.  His  ample  forehead,  broad  and 
high,  and  then  without  a  wrinkle,  indicated  the  placidity 
of  his  temper  and  the  might  and  energy  of  his  powerful 
brain.  His  large  dark  eyes  expressed  so  much  of  genius, 
intelligence,  and  principle  as  to  impress  most  deeply  even 
the  most  casual  observer.  His  mouth  indicated  firmness, 
and  the  whole  contour  of  his  features  impressed  me  that  I 
was  in  the  presence  of  a  man  of  exalted  character. 

It  was  during  this  Conference,  on  the  nights  of  Tuesday 
and  Wednesday,  that  the  memorable  meteoric  shower  oc- 
curred, which  is  regarded  as  the  most  magnificent  on  rec- 
ord. It  was  a  grand  sight.  All  the  stars  of  heaven  seemed 
to  be  falling.  Many  were  terrified,  and  thought  the  day  of 
judgment  at  hand.  Some  wept  and  others  shouted.  Many 
prayed,  and  made  wonderfur  confessions  of  sins  committed. 
President  Paine  looked  upon  the  scene  with  rapt  attention, 
and  with  the  admiration  of  the  Christian  and  the  scholar. 


44  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  I'AIXE,  D.D. 

He  had  just  been  reading  the  account  of  a  similar  shower 
on  the  12th  and  13th  of  November,  1799,  the  night  before 
his  own  birth.  The  next  morning,  before  the  beginning  of 
Conference,  he  was  quieting  all  our  fears  by  an  explanation 
of  the  occurrence  and  by  reference  to  these  former  showers 
of  which  he  had  been  very  recently  reading.  I  looked  up 
to  him  then  as  far  above  ordinary  men,  and  as  capable  of 
accomplishing  the  greatest  human  results.  At  as  early  a 
day  as  possible  I  sought  his  counsel  as  to  the  propriety  of 
my  going  to  college.  He  was  exceedingly  cautious.  He 
hesitated  to  advise  me.  He  spoke  of  the  advantages  of  a 
college  education,  yet  would  he  in  no  case  interfere  with 
conscience.  He  therefore  threw  the  responsibility  upon  me. 
I  was  still  a  beardless  boy.  My  father  anxiously  desired  to 
give  me  a  classical  education.  I  had  promised  him  before 
leaving  home  to  do  as  he  wished.  I  felt  bound  to  keep  this 
promise,  and  therefore  made  my  arrangements  to  enter  at 
once  upon  my  studies.  I  so  informed  Mr.  Paine,  and  he 
cordially  invited  me  to  come  as  soon  as  possible,  and  to  come 
direct  to  his  house.  I  c  m  never  forget  the  Monday  after- 
noon when  I  arrived  at  the  college.  I  was  in  a  sad  plight. 
I  had  been  five  days  going  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles.  I 
was  worn  and  travel-stained.  I  had  walked  through  the 
mud  and  water  for  nearly  ten  miles.  The  President  was 
standing  on  the  platform  in  front  of  the  college  chapel. 
The  boys  Avere  scattered  over  the  campus.  They  were  in 
high  glee,  as  the  exercises  were  just  closed,  and  for  a  time 
they  were  free.  They  did  not  meet  my  ideal  of  college  stu- 
dents. They  made  the  campus  ring  with  their  shouts.  The 
President  turned  to  me,  and  said :  "  Boys  will  be  boys ;  we 
do  not  expect  them  to  be  saints."  I  have  been  reminded  a 
thousand  times  of  this  utterance.  It  illustrated  his  sympa- 
thy with  boyhood.  It  showed  his  knowledge  of  human 
nature.     It  gave  mo  an  insight  into  his  management  of  his 


r.lSIIOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  rillRCIT,  ROl'TII.  45 


hoys,  ami  revealed  to  some  extent  the  secret  of  his  pov/cr 
over  them.     He  diil  not  attemi)t  imi)ossihilities.     He  did 
not  interfere  with  the  innocent  hihirity  of  youtli.     At  the 
right  time  he  deli.uhted  in  innocent  mirth.     Hi^  religion 
never  assumed  the  form  of  sour  godliness.     The  i)lay  of 
wit,  the  sense  of  the  ridiculous,  the  enjoyment  of  humor,  all 
accompanied  by  the  hearty  laugh,  were  altogether  compat- 
ible with  his  notions  of  piety.     While  he  set  himself  as  a 
flint  against  all  forms  of  vice,  and  held  with  a  firm,  steady 
hand  the  reins  of  college  government,  he  encouraged  all 
innocent  anmsements  and   healthful   gymnastic  exercises. 
He  was  himself  exceedingly  swift  of  foot,  and  could  excel 
in  many  feats   of  agility.     Against   every  form   of  vice 
he  brought  all  the  power  of  his  great  character.     The  se- 
verest irony  and  the  sharpest  wit  when  used  by  him  would 
often  make  the  guilty  boy  writhe  in  agony.     His  denun- 
ciation of  vice  in  all  its  forms  was  the  most  scathing  I 
ever  witnessed.      Shame,  remorse,  anger,  pride   would  by 
turns  rise  up,  and  one  or  the  other  would  almost  compel 
confession.     Still  he  was  patient  and  forbearing.     He  was 
seekino-  reformation,  and  to  this  end  his  versatile  powers 
were  all  employed.      College  life  was  always  irksome  to 
him.     He  greatly  preferred  the  work  of  the  pastorate.    His 
preaching  was  affected  by  this  radical  change.     His  taste 
became  more  exacting.     He  hesitated  between  the  different 
words  Avhich  presented  themselves  to  his  choice.     The  hesi- 
tation seemed  to  proceed  from  an  entire  loss  of  words.     This 
was  not  true.     Often,  as  he  has  told  me,  a  half  dozen  words 
would  present  themselves,  and  as  he  desired  to  use  the  best 
he  would  hesitate  and  seem  confused.     The  hesitation  was 
often  embarrAssing,  especially  to  his  friends,  who  knew  his 
great  powers  as  a  sacred  orator.     During  these  years,  svhcn 
the  least  was  expected,  he  made  some  of  his  grandest  efforts. 
I  recall  a  night  in  the  college  chapel  when  the  Faculty  of  the 


46  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,  D.D. 

college  and  the  students  were  almost  the  only  hearers. 
He  was  thoroughly  himself.  His  thoughts,  original  and 
stirring,  were  expressed  in  the  purest  English  and  with 
faultless  taste.  His  imagination  seemed  roused  to  its  grand- 
est creations.  His  feelings  were  all  aglow,  and  he  made  an 
appeal  in  behalf  of  our  holy  religion  which  moved  that  little 
audience  as  I  have  seldom  seen  an  audience  moved.  When 
we  came  out,  Professor  Ellison  said  to  me:  "Did  you  ever 
listen  to  any  thing  equal  to  that?  That  effort  would  have 
graced  any  occasion  and  gratified  any  audience.  I  wrote  to 
Dr.  Capers  a  few  days  ago,  and  told  him  that  the  Church 
at  large  did  not  know  the  wonderful  power  of  President 
Paine.  Not  at  Conference  before  a  large  audience,  not  upon 
any  great  occasion,  but  here  at  home,  with  not  more  than 
one  hundred  listeners,  he  made  efforts  which  I  have  never 
heard  surpassed."  He  then  went  on  to  compare  him  with 
those  great  preachers  Drs.  Capers  and  Pierce,  and  said, 
"Paine  is  the  equal  of  any."  The  boys  were  proud  of  him, 
and,  as  college  boys  will  do,  when  out  of  his  hearing  called 
him  by  the  familar  name  of  "  Old  Bob."  Old  Bob,  they 
fcaid,  "could  outpreach  anybody."  In  the  fall  of  1833  the 
Jlev.  John  C.  Burruss  came  on  a  visit  from  Mississippi,  and 
attracted  great  attention  as  a  most  charming  preacher.  At 
the  Mountain  Spring  Camp-meeting,  held  near  Courtland, 
many  of  the  college  boys  were  present.  The  sermon  of 
Brother  Burruss  made  a  most  powerful  impression  and  ex- 
cited universal  admiration.  He  had  a  sweet,  musical  voice, 
and  was  a  word-painter  of  wonderful  artistic  skill.  He  was 
tin  elegant  Virginian,  a  gentleman  of  the  old  school.  His 
gestures  were  graceful,  his  articulation  distinct,  his  pronun- 
ciation accurate,  and  his  emphasis  tasteful  and  impressive. 
I'hen  he  added  to  all  this  manners  the  most  graceful  and 
courtly.  His  manners  would  have  given  him  eclat  in  any 
of  the  halls  of  royaltv  in  the  courts  of  Europe.     North 


Binnop  OF  TiiK  M.  E.  CHrRCii,  SOUTH.  47 

Al;il)aiiiJi  ^vas  at  tliat  time  the  center  of  refinement.  Court- 
land  especially  boasted  of  elegant  culture,  and  Mr.  Burruss 
was  the  admired  of  all.  80  ])()pular  was  his  preiiching  that 
the  boys  became  alarmed.  They  began  to  dread  a  rival  to 
"  Old  Bob."  Sunday  came.  The  day  was  all  that  could 
l)e  desired.  The  audience  was  one  of  the  largest  ever  as- 
sembled in  North  Alabama.  As  usual  in  tliose  days,  two 
sermons  were  to  be  delivered  at  the  noon  service.  Brother 
Burruss  was  to  preach  first.  He  never  appeared  to  better 
advantage.  He  was  about  forty-five  years  of  age,  and  at 
the  zenith  of  his  glory.  He  sehjom  made  a  failure,  and  on 
this  occasion  his  effort  was  equal  to  his  best.  The  graces  of 
oratory  were  never  exhil^ited  before  a  more  appreciative  au- 
dience. He  ceased  while  the  charms  of  the  most  beautiful 
word-painting  and  the  softest  and  tenderest  appeals  in  behalf 
of  the  cross  of  Christ  were  telling  largely  upon  a  deeply 
interested  audience.  President  Paine  was  to  follow.  His 
text  was,  "Why  stand  ye  here  all  the  day  idle?"  The  ser- 
mon of  the  gifted  Burruss  had  aroused  Paine,  and  fully  pre- 
pared him  to  do  his  best.  He  seemed  to  be  clothed  Avith 
supernatural  power  and  to  come  with  all  the  authority  of 
of  an  embassador  of  Christ.  His  credentials  from  the  court 
of  heaven  could  not  have  been  more  clearly  read  had  they 
been  written  in  letters  of  gold.  His  caustic  satire  and  ve- 
hement invective  presented  to  that  congregation  idleness  in 
a  new  light.  That  which  had  formerly  seemed  altogether 
negative  in  its  character  now  appeared  as  a  sin  of  high 
magnitude.  Idleness  was  portrayed  as  a  sin  against  self, 
against  society,  against  the  Church,  and  above  all  against 
God.  There  was  dignity  in  labor,  and  glory  in  the  work 
of  Christ.  To  labor  in  his  vineyard  was  man's  highest 
honor.  To  neglect  it  was  the  blight  of  all  progress  and  the 
ruin  of  the  soul.  Then  with  a  voice  like  a  trumpet,  and 
with  an  intensity  of  earnestness  worthy  of  an  apostle,  he 


48  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 


invited,  lie  called  with  all  the  authority  of  his  divine  mission : 
"Go  work  in  God's  vineyard.  Go  ivork  to-day.  To  post- 
pone is  ruin,  to  neglect  is  death ! "  A  most  profound  impres- 
sion was  produced.  He  had  equaled  his  grandest  efforts. 
He  knew  nothing  of  rivalry.  He  was  above  that,  and  so 
was  his  great  and  good  friend  Mr.  Burruss.  The  success 
of  one  was  the  triumph  of  the  other.  I  have  given  this 
incident  largel5^  for  the  purpose  of  impressing  this  gener- 
ous and  noble  Christian  spirit  upon  the  preachers  of  this 
day.  Let  there  be  no  ungenerous,  unchristian  rivalry,  but 
as  in  the  case  of  the  now  sainted  Burruss  and  Paine,  let  the 
success  of  one  be  the  triumph  of  the  other.  No  man  was 
louder  in  his  praise  than  was  the  noble  Virginian.  The  boys 
were  in  ecstasy,  and  declared  that  such  a  sermon  was  never 
preached  before. 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHUnCir,  SOUTH.  49 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Studying  Amonc;  tiik  Rocks — Coij.EiiE  Life — Teaciiincj — 
1\ Ui  1 1)  Keq rir.EMENTs —  I )a x< ; ers — Courau e. 

IX  tlio  im'jiiitiine  tlic  college  continued  to  increase  its  pat- 
ronage and  to  giiin  influence.  The  President  had  the 
de;)artnient  of  Moral  Science.  He  also  taught  geology  and 
mineralogy.  He  had  a  fine  opportunity  for  the  study  of 
geology,  and  he  industriously  availed  himself  of*  it.  He 
spent  much  time  in  the  gorges  of  the  mountain.  He  went, 
like  Hugh  Miller,  with  his  hammer  in  hand,  breaking  the 
rocks  and  studying  their  composition.  He  penetrated  into 
the  deep,  dark  caverns,  and  brought  out  many  beautiful 
specimens.  Fifty  years  ago  he  declared  that  iron  and  coal 
in  great  abundance  would  be  found  in  the  mountains  of 
North  Alabama.  He  became  a  practical  geologist,  ahead 
of  most  men  of  his  day.  At  one  time  he  spent  twenty-four 
houi-s  without  sleep  in  a  cave  near  Tuscumbia,  Ala.,  at 
least  one  hundred  feet  below  the  surface.  The  density  of 
the  atmosphere  enabled  him  to  endure  and  perform  all  this. 
In  his  own  department  he  studied  Butler,  Reid,  Brown, 
Stewart,  Abercrombie,  Say,  Blair,  Campbell,  Alexander,  and 
Paley,  and  others.  He  was  unequaled  in  the  lecture-room. 
Sometimes  he  would  hesitate,  and  seem  to  be  at  a  loss,  wliile 
at  othei'S  he  would  be  sublimely  eloquent,  and  fill  the  ideal  of 
a  great  professor.  At  one  time  he  would  abound  in  illustra- 
tions— unique,  original,  beautiful,  and  throwing,  the  clearest 
light  upon  the  most  obscure  subjects;  at  another,  he  would 
ask  a  few  leading  questions,  and,  without  requiring  or  giving 
any  full  analysis  of  the  lesson,  would  dismiss  the  class.  He 
4 


50  LIFE  OF   ROBERT  RAIXE,   D.D. 


required  of  my  class  a  most  rigid  and  thorough  written 
analysis  of  Campbell's  Philosophy  of  Rhetoric.  This  was 
the  greatest  task  of  our  college  life,  and  possibly  the  most 
profitable. 

At  the  close  of  1835  the  health  of  Mrs.  Paine  began  to 
fail.  The  disease  was  of  the  lungs.  With  his  invalid  Avife 
he  spent  the  winter  in  Louisiana  at  the  home  of  her  father, 
Mr.  Craighead.  She  never  returned  to  La  Grange.  I  had 
been  the  inmate  of  the  family  for  months.  She  was  a  model 
woman,  and  always  treated  me  as  a  younger  brother.  She 
died  at  her  old  home  in  Nashville,  among  dear  friends  and 
in  full  hope  of  a  blissful  immortality.  She  was  courageous 
to  the  laSt,  and  insisted  that  her  husband  should  attend  the 
commencement  of  the  college  in  June,  1836.  She  knew 
her  end  was  near,  but  felt  that  she  would  survive  until  his 
return.  He  left  La  Grange  about  the  9th  of  June,  1836, 
and  arrived  at  Nashville  just  a  few  days  before  she  entered 
into  rest.  Her  funeral-sermon  was  preached  by  his  fi-iend 
Dr.  J.  B.  McFerrin.  She  left  two  sons,  John  E.  Beck  and 
JaTnes  S.  They  were  bright  and  promising  boys,  and  were 
almost  too  young  to  feel  the  loss  of  their  noble  mother. 
They  both  grew  to  be  men.  John  studied  medicine,  and 
died  just  in  the  prime  of  young  manhood,  and  just  as  he 
was  entering  upon  a  most  useful  career.  James  is  still  liv- 
ing. At  the  opening  of  the  session  in  September,  President 
Paine  was  at  his  post  lonely  and  sad.  The  wife  of  his  youth 
had  been  taken,  and  although  not  a  demonstrative  man,  he 
showed  in  all  his  walk  and  conversation  that  he  was  indeed 
bereaved.  At  the  same  time  he  was  faithful  and  diligent 
in  the  discharge  of  all  his  duties. 

In  the  winter  of  1836-37  Professor  Ellison  resigned.  He 
was  a  noble  specimen  of  manhood.  For  years  he  had  filled 
his  chair  with  great  acceptability  and  usefulness.  His  stern, 
inflexible  integrity  deeply  impressed  itself  upon  the  young 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCII,  SOUTH.  51 

men  of  the  college.  Professor  Collins  D.  Elliott  was  trans- 
ferred to  the  vacant  chair,  and  the  writer  was  elected  Pro- 
fessor of  Latin  and  Greek.  At  the  same  time  Dr.  Thomas 
Barbour  was  elected  Professor  of  Chemistry,  and  Henry 
Masson,  from  Paris,  France,  was  chosen  Professor  of  Modern 
LaniTiiaiTCS.  Dr.  Barbour  was  the  son  of  the  Hon.  Philip 
p.  Barbour,  of  Virginia,  who  was  one  of  the  Judges  of  the 
Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States.  The  new  professor 
was  a  highly  educated  physician,  and  gave  great  satisfaction 
to  the  students  and  Faculty  of  the  college.  It  was  in  his 
family  that  President  Paine  found  a  home  for  himself  and 
his  two  little  boys.  Mrs.  Barbour  did  all  in  her  power  to  al- 
leviate their  great  sorrow.  She  was  a  beautiful  Christian  char- 
acter, and  acted  the  part  of  a  loving  sister  to  the  bereaved 
husband,  and  sought  to  be  a  mother  to  his  two  motherless  chil- 
dren. The  President  could  not  have  had  more  pleasant  as- 
sociations in  those  sad  and  lonely  hours  following  the  death 
of  his  precious  w  ife. 

He  was  blessed  too  with  a  loyal  Faculty.  They  were  all 
men  selected  by  himself,  and  were  ready  to  give  him  tReir 
nnanimous  support  in  the  administration  of  the  college. 
Professor  Elliott  had  shown  himself  the  able  professor  in 
the  department  of  Ancient  Languages;  he  now  gave  him- 
self with  all  his  energies  to  the  professorship  of  IVIathemat- 
ics.  He  was  the  close,  earnest,  faithful  student.  He  gave 
not  more  than  seven  hours  to  sleep  and  recreation.  He 
spent  the  remainder  of  the  twenty-four  hours  in  earnest 
preparation  for  his  great  work  and  in  doing  that  work. 
He  was  seldom  or  never  absent.  He  was  a  model  of  punc- 
tuality and  fidelity. 

Soon  after  the  organization  of  the  new"  Faculty  in  the 
spring  of  1837,  a  sad  occurrence  threatened  the  best  inter- 
ests of  the  college.  In  the  heat  of  excitement  one  student 
killed  another.     They  both  belonged  to  excellent  families, 


52  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,  D.T>. 


and  of  course  both  had  their  frieuds.  A  fearful  gloom  hung 
over  the  college.  The  students  were  terribly  aroused.  It 
required  all  the  prudence  of  the  Faculty,  added  to  the  well- 
known  popularity  of  the  President,  to  prevent  permanent 
disaster.  The  disaster  was  arrested,  however,  and  in  a  short 
time  all  was  going  on  as  usual.  The  power  and  influence 
of  President  Paine  were  never  more  severely  tried  than 
during  these  dark  days.  He  stood  the  test  and  bore  him- 
self with  such  prudence  as  not  only  to  retain  but  to  increase 
his  popularity.  His  conduct  was  approved  heartily  by  the 
friends  of  the  boy  who  was  killed,  and  he  ever  after  received 
the  sincere  gratitude  of  the  friends  of  the  unfortunate  youth 
whose  dagger  had  pierced  the  heart  of  his  fellow-student. 

It  is  not  often  that  a  man  can  pass  unscathed  through  an 
ordeal  so  trying  as  was  this.  It  was,  however,  in  the  fall  of 
the  year  1837  that  difficulties  arose  in  the  absence  of  the 
President  which  amounted  to  a  rebellion.  Upon  his  return 
to  the  college,  he  found  some  half  dozen  suspended  students 
armed  and  threatening  destruction  to  the  college  and  death 
to  several  members  of  the  Faculty.  It  was  feared  they  would 
burn  the  college.  Of  course  they  had  their  friends  among 
the  students;  consequently  there  were  two  parties.  One, 
and  the  smaller  party,  for  the  Faculty,  and  ready  to  stand 
up  for  law  and  order ;  the  other  sympathizing  with  the  sus- 
pended students.  Again  and  again  was  attack  threatened 
and  fully  expected.  Once  a  violent  youth  presented  a  pis- 
tol right  in  front  of  the  President  and  aiming  at  his  heart. 
All  the  manhood  of  President  Paine  was  aroused.  Rising 
to  his  full  height,  without. the  quailing  of  a  nerve  and  with 
the  authority  of  "right  which  makes  might,"  he  said,  "Put 
down  that  pistol!"  The  pistol  dropped,  and  the  defiant 
hand  hung  limp  and  powerless  by  the  side  of  the  intimi- 
dated and  trembling  youth.  It  was  soon  found  that  the 
inspiration  came  upon  these  rebellious  students  from  a  very 


lusiioi"  OF  Tin:  m.  k.  church,  south.  53 


had  man  who  kept  the  vilhige  hotel.     Consequently  the 
students  ^vere  forbidden  to  Inive  intercourse  with   him,  or 
even  to  enler  his  hotel.     This  aroused  the  denum  in  the 
hotel-keeper,  whose  name  was  McCaleb,  and  he  threatened 
(k'ath  to  the  President.     At  the  same  time  he  had  a  diffi- 
eulty  witli  a  Mv.  White,  who  was  an  excellent  citizen  and 
a  "ood  friend  to  ^Ir.  Paine.     Mr.  AVhite  had  business  in 
Columbus,  Miss.,  and  started  there  in  November,  1837  or 
1838,  on  horseback.     He  was  pursued  by  McCaleb  on  the 
fleetest  horse  to  be  obtained  in  the  country.     When  White 
had  reached  a  few  miles  out  from  Columbus,  on  his  return 
home,  he  was  met  by  McCaleb  and  shot  through  the  head. 
The  nmrderer  was  so  close  to  his  victim  that  the  hair  and 
head  were  burned  by  the  explosion.     McCaleb  turned  from 
the  road,  went  through  the  forest,  and  through  a  boggy  swamp 
that  was  never  known  to  be  crossed  before  by  any  living 
being,  and  had  always  been  regarded  as  impassable.     He 
was  never  found.     It  was  soon  reported  that  he  was  hiding 
in  the  gorges  of  the  mountain,  and  seeking  an  opportunity  to 
commit  another  murder.     This  time  Mr.  Paine  was  to  be 
the  victim.    His  friends  were  alarmed.    McCaleb  was  known 
to  have  threatened  his  life,  and  as  he  had  murdered  Mr. 
White  in  cold  blood,  and  was  a  most  desperate  man,  we 
had  our  fears  for   the   safety   of   our  beloved  President. 
During  all  this  time  the  man  for  whom  such  anxiety  was 
felt  was  as  free  from  excitement  as  though  no  threat  had 
been  made  and  no  danger  was  to  be  api)rehended.     Cool 
and   self-poised,   he   never    bore   himself  with   more    dig- 
nity, never  seemed  freer  from  all  trepidation.     His  home 
was  then  one  mile  from  the  college,  and  there  were  many 
places  along  this  mountainous  pathway  in  which  a  cold- 
blooded assassin  midit  hide,  and  from  which  lie  might  ac- 
complish his  deadly  puiiK)se.     I  was  with  him  almost  daily, 
and  talked  with  him  freely,  and  he  told  me  invariably  that 


54  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  TAINE,   D.D. 

the  emotion  of  fear  had  never  been  felt  by  him,  and  tliat  he 
was  never  more  quiet  or  trustful  than  during  all  this  excite- 
ment among  his  friends.  The  boys  were  subdued,  and  Mc- 
Calel)  never  returned. 

I  have  detailed  these  facts  to  show  a  trait  of  character 
which  would  have  fitted  him  to  command  an  army.  He 
had  the  highest  courage.  He  never  lost  his  jDresence  of 
mind  in  the  midst  of  danger.  He  was  the  stuff  of  which 
martyrs  are  made.  Moral  courage,  as  free  from  rashness  on 
the  one  hand  as  from  cowardice  on  the  other,  was  one  of 
the  great  features  of  his  exalted  character. 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  55 


CHAPTER  VIM. 

Unselfishness — Courage — Sorrow. 

AMONG  the  strong  traits  of  character  which  exercised  a 
more  than  usual  influence  among  the  students  was  his 
unselfish  devotion  to  them  and  their  best  interests.  He  ex- 
hibited this  devotion  whenever  occasion  called  for  it.  In 
the  fall  of  1834  or  1835  there  was  held  a  camp-meeting  at 
Spring  Creek,  between  La  Grange  and  Tuscumbia.  It  was 
just  at  the  beginning  of  the  great  abolition  excitement, 
which  afterward  culminated  in  the  terrible  civil  war  and 
in  the  final  extinction  of  slavery.  A  young  Methodist 
preacher,  a  student  of  the  college,  was  appointed  on  Sat- 
urday to  preach.  His  theme  was  the  unsatisfying  nature 
of  all  earthly  things.  In  the  discussion  he  attempted  to 
show  that  satisfaction  could  be  found  alone  in  the  religion 
of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  In  the  absence  of  religion  there 
.was  always  unrest.  The  people  might  be  ignorant  or  intelli- 
gent, in  a  high  or  low  state  of  civilization,  might  belong  to 
any  class  or  race,  Caucasian  or  African,  and  without  relig- 
ion there  was  no  peace,  no  rest,  no  satisfaction.  He  illus- 
trated this  truth  by  reference  to  the  unsettled  state  of  Eu- 
rope at  the  very  time  at  which  he  was  speaking.  He  also 
instanced  insurrections  among  the  slaves  in  Virginia.  Man 
without  religion  cannot  be  happy.  Without  it  he  is  like  the 
spirit  wandering,  seeking  rest  and  finding  none.  The  utter- 
ance of  the  youth  produced  the  greatest  excitement.  He 
was  denounced  as  an  abolitionist,  and  threatened  with  Lynch 
law.  Word  was  sent  to  his  presiding  elder  that  he  must  not 
appoint  the  young  man  to  preach — that  he  should  not  preach 


50  LIFE  OF   KOBEKT   PAINE,   D.D. 


there  again.  He  was  kept  in  entire  ignorance  of  the  excite- 
ment until  the  storm  was  ready  to  burst  upon  him.  The 
presiding  elder  and  other  older  ministers  decided  he  should 
preach.  President  Paine  came  to  him  and  said :  "  I  know 
that  you  did  not  mean  to  stir  up  the  negroes,  but  some  of 
the  people  believe  you  did.  Your  remarks,  in  a  most  ex- 
aggerated form,  were  carried  to  Tuscumbia  last  night,  and 
men  are  here  to-day  who  say  you  shall  not  preach,  and  if 
you  attempt  to,  they  are  ready  to  do  you  violence.  You 
have  friends  here  who  will  stand  by  you.  It  is,  however, 
prudent,  and  will  be  for  the  best,  that  you  make  an  expla- 
nation and  tell  the  people  that  nothing  was  farther  from  your 
intention  than  to  produce  any  such  results  as  are  now  feared." 
Tiie  young  minister  told  him  that  he  would  make  any  ex- 
planation that  he  might  think  necessary,  though  he  had  not 
the  least  fear  of  danger.  Accordingly  at  eleven  o'clock,  be- 
fore at  least  two  thousand  people,  the  poor  innocent  boy 
arose  to  make  the  explanation.  Men  were  standing  in 
threatening  mood  all  around.  He  simply  said  that  his 
remarks  had  been  strangely  misunderstood,  and  that  he 
had  never  thought  of  producing  any  stir  among  the  ne- 
groes, and  that  nothing  was  farther  from  his  thoughts  than 
an  insurrection,  and  that  he  would  deprecate  such  insurrec- 
tion as  much  as  any  man  who  condemned  his  remarks.  He 
did  not  occupy  five  minutes  in  his  explanation.  He  retracted 
nothing.  He  expressed  no  regrets,  and  asked  no  pardon.  He 
sat  down  amid  looks  which  foreboded  any  thinfj;  but  ijood. 
IVesidcnt  l\iine  arose.  He  nevei*  in  all  his  life  appeared  to 
better  advantage.  His  dark  eyes  flashed.  His  features 
were  all  aglow.  Determination,  courage,  and  perfect  fear- 
lessness characterized  his  whole  manner.  He  said  that  he 
had  listened  to  the  sermon.  "The  excitement  was  as  unjust 
as  it  was  unfounded.  Nothing  had  been  said  to  produce  it. 
A  man  that  would  stir  up  an  insurrection  among  the  hajipy 


BISHOP  OP  THE  M.  K.  CHURCH,  «(»UTH.  57 


and  contented  slaves  in  that  peaceful  valley  wonld  be  little 
less  than  a  fiend,  *and  would  deserve  universal  execration. 
My  young  friend  docs  not  belong  to  that  class.  He  is  a 
born  l^outhcrner.  His  father  owned  slaves,  and  he  was 
born  and  reared  among  them.  He  would  do  them  no 
harm.  He  would  do  you  none.  He  is  free  from  all  blame, 
and  must  not  be  hurt.  He  has  friends  here  strong,  honor- 
al)le,  and  true.  You  can  inflict  no  Lynch  law  upon  him. 
1  will  head  the  company  of  brave  men  -who  will  see  that 
not  one  hair  of  his  head  is  touched."  His  courage  never 
shone  more  conspicuously  than  on  that  occasion.  His  pu- 
l)il,  wdiom  he  knew  well,  had  unwittingly  aroused  feelings 
against  himself  at  once  violent  and  unjust.  The  President 
at  once  placed  himself  in  the  front,  and  was  ready  to  do  or 
die  in  the  defense  of  right.  At  first  his  remarks  fell  on 
unwilling  ears.  Some  cried,  "  Take  him  out ! "  "  Stop  him ! " 
But  he  kept  on  until  the  universal  hush  indicated  that  he 
had  gained  his  point  and  was  master  of  the  situation.  He 
ruled  the  storm.  He  quelled  the  mob.  Like  the  great 
man  that  he  was,  he  remained  strong  and  firm,  command- 
ing the  feelings,  breaking  down  the  spirit  of  the  mob,  sub- 
tluing  a  very  excited  multitude,  and  rising  in  the  estimation 
of  all.  The  religious  services  immediately  followed — songs 
and  prayers,  .sermons  and  exhortations,  until  the  religious 
excitement  overcame  all  other  feelings  except  with  a  very 
few  "  lewd  fellows  of  the  baser  sort." 

Tlie  Ilev.  Alexander  Sale  i)reaclied  one  of  his  strongest 
sti-mons,  and  many  were  at  the  altar  for  the  prayers  of  the 
Church.  At  three  o^clock  the  Rev.  F.  A.  Owen,  who  was 
the  presiding  elder,  insisted  that  the  young  preacher  should 
again  occupy  the  pulpit.  So  without  molestation  the  work 
went  on.  Many  were  converted.  So  bright  and  happy 
were  many  of  those  conversions,  and  so  sincere  and  earnest 
were  the  cries  for  mercv,  that  a  saintly  woman  who  was 


58  I  iFE  OF  kobi:kt  paine,  d.d. 


called  on  to  pray  commenced  the  prayer  with  these  re- 
markable words:  "O  Lord,  but  for  the  sobs  of  grief 
which  come  from  these  dear  penitents,  we  could  almost 
believe  we  had  crossed  over  the  river  and  were  now  for- 
ever beyond  any  more  suffering  and  sorrow."  So  ended, 
in  songs  of  peace  and  prayers  full  of  love  and  faith,  an 
excitement  which,  but  for  his  decision  of  character  and 
magnetic  power  over  congregations,  might  have  ended 
in  a  most  horrible  manner.  He  was  the  bow  of  peace 
spanning  the  cloud.  He  showed  that  he  knew  the  right, 
and  dared  maintain  it.  The  mutterings  of  wrath  did  not 
alarm  him.  He  did  his  duty,  and  left  the  result  with  his 
God.  I  need  only  add  that  the  boy-preacher  is  the  writer 
of  these  pages.  He  passed  through  the  storm  without 
knowing  its  violence  until  it  was  spent.  The  brave  and 
generous  C.  D.  Elliott,  now  of  Kashville,  Tenn.,  stood  by 
the  President,  and  firmly  sustained  his  young  friend  and 
pupil.  He  awoke  Avithin  him  then  and  there  a  feeling  of 
gratitude  which  fifty  years  have  not  extinguished.  Col.  R. 
A.  Baker,  Major  John  Cockrill,  and  others,  stood  by  the 
young  preacher  then,  and  remained  true  till  death. 


lUSIIOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHUIICIT,  SOUTH.  59 


CHAPTER    IX. 

Secon'd  Marriage— Death— (ruiEF — Kevival — Marriage  to 
Miss  Mary  Eliza  Millwater — Family. 

!T  was  during  the  year  1837  that  he  was  united  in  mar- 
riage to  his  second  wife,  Miss  Amanda  Shaw,  the  daughter 
of  a  Presbyterian  minister  in  Columbia,  Tennessee.  She 
was  worthy  of  him,  and  made  his  home  ever  so  happy  for  a 
lew  short  months.  She  died  without  issue.  Her  death  was 
universally  lamented.  Her  funeral -sermon  Avas  preached 
by  the  Rev.  Alexander  Sale,  and  she  was  buried  in  the  little 
cemetery  in  the  mountain.  The  first  Mrs.  Wadsworth  and 
President  J.  W.  Hardy  both  sleep  near  her. 

Often  during  these  sad  years  he  seemed  almost  inspired 
while  delivering  his  lectures  to  his  class.  Once  in  1839  he 
was  lecturing  the  senior  class  on  the  Evidences  of  Chris- 
tianity. He  attacked  Hume  with  arguments  at  once  terse, 
strong,  and  unanswerable.  He  opposed  his  errors  with  all 
the  power  of  inexorable  logic,  and  then  employed  his  own 
inimitable  satire  and  blighting  sarcasm  Avith  powerful  effect. 
Then  he  appealed  to  conscience  in  a  manner  at  once  so 
sincere,  so  tender,  and  so  touching  as  to  move  some  of  the 
class  to  tears.  He  told  me  himself  that  in  all  his  career  as 
an  instructor  he  had  never  seen  such  visible  manifestations 
of  the  power  of  truth.  To  the  minds  of  the  intelligent  class 
the  boasted  argument  of  Hume  was  the  merest  begging  of 
the  question,  and  the  great  philosopher,  like  a  stranded 
ship,  was  left  to  sink  in  tlie  muddy  waters  of  the  foulest 
error.  Conviction  affecting  reason  and  conscience  was  pro- 
duced, and  it  expressed  itself  in  the  i)alli(l  countenance  and 
tearful  eye,  and  after  awhile  in  the  earnest  prayer  of  peni- 


(',()  LIF^E  OF  ROBERT  PAINT-:,   D.D. 


tence,  Avhich  was  followed  by  the  sound  conversion  and  the 
shout  of  praise. 

From  that  lecture  a  revival  spread  through  the  collcL'^e. 
Nearly  every  student  was  moved.  It  embraced  every  chiss 
and  almost  every  individual.  I  do  not  think  there  were 
more  than  six  in  the  college  who  remained  uuconv^erted. 
Along  the  slopes  of  the  mountain,  in  the  rooms  of  the  stu- 
dents, on  the  way  to  the  church  and  Avhen  returning  from 
it,  in  the  chapel  and  in  the  recitation-rooms,  the  work  of 
Divine  grace  was  manifested.  I  have  seen  the  President 
and  other  members  of  the  Faculty-^ministers — arise  in  the 
pul})it,  intending  to  preach  or  exhort,  and  begin  first  to  give 
out  an  appropriate  hymn,  and  fifteen  or  twenty  would  rush 
up  and  kneel  at  the  altar.  Nothing  could  be  heard  but  the 
cries  of  penitents  and  the  shouts  of  those  who  had  been  con- 
verted. Such  scenes  I  have  never  witnessed  before  or  since. 
It  lasted  for  months.  Young  converts  would  lead  the 
prayer-meetings;  not  one  ever  refused  to  pray  when  called 
on.  There  are  numbers  in  heaven  to-day  the  fruits  of  that 
revival.  The  college  became  vocal  with  praises.  By  night 
and  by  day  the  work  progressed.  Its  good  effects  w^ere  seen 
for  years  in  the  college,  and  its  fruits  have  been  felt  in  the 
pulpits  of  the  different  churches  occupied  by  pastors  con- 
verted during  that  revival.  President  Paine  always  loved 
to  recur  to  that  powerful  work  of  God  because  its  first  mani- 
festations were  so  clearly  the  result  of  an  appeal  to  the 
reason. 

In  November,  1839,  the  Rev.  Pobert  Paine  was  united 
in  marriage  to  Miss  Mary  Eliza  Millwater,  the  daughter  of 
Mrs.  Turner  Saunders  by  her  first  marriage.  Miss  Mill- 
water  was  much  younger  than  her  husband,  but  was  well 
fitted  to  be  his  wife.  She  was  modest,  amiable,  sensible,  and 
pious.  Mrs.  Saunders  possessed  the  highest  qualifications 
of  a  wife  and  mother,  and  was  remarkable  for  her  ease  and 


RISIIOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CIIURrir,  SOUTH.  61 


ele<rance  in  refined  society,  and  her  unostentatious  devotion 
to  our  holy  religion.  Herself  the  wife  of  a  minister,  she 
rejoiced  in  this  union  of  her  dauirhter  to  this  distinguished 
minister  and  future  Bisho})  of  the  Church. 

It  is  very  seldom  that  a  happier  marriage  occurs.  For 
forty-three  years  they  walked  together  and  were  fullv 
"agreed."  To  them  were  born  four  sons  and  tliree  daii<rh- 
ters.  The  sons  were  liobert,  now  living  in  Aberdeen  ;  John 
Emory,  who  studied  medicine,  graduated  with  distinction, 
and  died  young;  George  W.,  now  attorney  at  law  and  living 
in  Aberdeen,  recently  married  to  a  granddaughter  of  Di-. 
A.  L.  P.  Green,  in  Nashville,  Tenn.  The  youngest.  Dr. 
AVilliam,  unmarried,  and  lives  Avith  his  mother  in  Aberdeen, 
practicing  his  profession.  The  daughters  are  Sarah  Felix, 
married  Mr.  P.  Hamilton,  and  also  lives  in  Aberdeen ; 
Ludie,  married  Rev.  John  H.  Scruggs,  of  the  North  Missis- 
sippi Conference,  and  at  this  writing  is  stationed  in  Colum- 
bus, JNIiss.;  and  Mary,  who  married  Mr.  Wendell,  now  re- 
siding in  Tunica  county,  Miss. 


62  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 


CHAPTER   X. 

Professor  Tutwiler— Honors — Agents. 

TN  the  year  1840,  Prof.  Henry  Tutwiler  became  a  member 
1  of  the  Faculty.  He  was  the  selection  of  the  President. 
Professors  Elliott  and  Barbour  had  both  resigned  and  Pro- 
fessor Tutwiler  was  to  fill  the  chairs — Mathematics  and 
Chemistry,  A  more  fortunate  selection  could  not  have 
been  made.  He  was  thoroughly  "furnished"  for  both 
departments.  A  graduate  of  the  University  of  Virginia, 
he  fully  sustained  the  high  character  of  that  institution. 
He  was  a  profound  and  rich  linguist,  a-  thorough  mathe- 
matician, and  a  superior  chemist.  He  'was  learned  without 
pedantry,  pious  without  bigotry,  a  gentleman  without  a 
blemish,  a  character  without  a  flaw.  He  gave  the  full 
weight  of  his  great  character  to  aid  the  President  and  his 
associates  of  the  Faculty  in  building  up  the  college,  increas- 
ing its  patronage,  and  enlarging  its  influence.  He  continued 
in  the  institution  until  his  friend  and  colleague  w^as  elected 
and  ordained  Bishop  in  the  Church. 

In  the  year  1842  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  was 
conferred  upon  President  Paine.  It  came  from  the  AVes- 
leyan  University,  Middletown,  Conn. ;  and  Dr.  Nathan 
Bangs  was  the  President,  and  announced  the  fact  in  a 
characteristic  letter  to  his  old  friend,  with  whom  he  had 

served  often  in  the  General  Conference,  as  follows: 

• 

Middletown,  Conn.,  Aug.  fi,  1842. 

My  Dear  Brother:   Agreeably  to  a  resolution  of  the  .Joint  Board 

of  the  Wesleyan  University,  the  degree  D.D.  was  conferred  on  you 

at  OUT  late  commencement,  and  yourdi])loma  is  now  filled  and  signod. 

I  know  not,  however,  how  to  send  it  to  you;  but  if  you  have  an  op- 


RISITOr  OF  THE  M.  E.  CITURril,  SOUTH.  63 

ix>rtnnity  to  send  for  it  by  the  persons  calling  on  me,  or,  if  1  should 
be  absent  (as  I  expect  to  leave  here),  on  rrofessor  Smith,  it  can  be 
obtained. 

AVisliing  you  all  temporal  and  spiritual  ]>lessings  and  mucli  pros- 
})erity  in  your  work,  I  remain  yours  atlectionately,        Is.  Uangs. 

Rev.  Kobert  Paine. 

This  degree  was  very  unexpected  by  the  President.  At 
tlint  time  there  were  hardly  a  dozen  doctors  of  divinity 
in  the  Methodist  Church.  Doctors  Bangs,  Olin,  Durhin, 
C  apers,  Fisk,  and  a  few  others,  made  up  the  whole  number. 
Now  they  are  numbered  by  the  hundred;  then  hardly  by 
the  score.  Dr.  Paine  literally  blushed  beneath  his  honors. 
He  was  unwilling  to  be  called  Doctor,  His  modesty  was 
as  shrinking  as  his  merit  was  great.  He  neither  desired 
nor  sought  any  worldly  glory.  He  preferred  to  be  called 
Brother  Paine,  or  plain  Mr.  Paine.  Merit,  real  merit,  is 
nearly  always  modest.  It  was  especially  so  in  his  case.  I 
never  knew  Dr.  Paine  to  boast  of  any  act  of  his  life.  He 
shrunk  from  applause.  He  published  but  few  of  his  ser- 
mons. His  splendid  baccalaureate  addresses  seldom  saw  the 
light.  He  presided  over  the  college  for  more  than  sixteen 
years,  and  delivered  to  each  graduating  class  an  address 
worthy  of  preservation,  and  many  of  them  of  rare  excel- 
lence, and  during  all  that  time  I  think  he  suffered  but  two 
to  go  to  press.  He  seldom  spoke  of  his  own  efforts,  and 
never  in  a  laudatory  manner.  In  the  early  history  of  the 
college,  when  he  had  but  few  advanced  students,  he  wrote 
many  speeches  to  be  delivered  on  commencement  occasions. 
These  speeches  embraced  almost  every  variety  of  compo- 
sition. They  were  witty,  humorous,  satirical,  moral,  phil- 
osophical, and  religious,  by  turns.  AVhen  the  address  was 
announced,  he  simply  said,  ''  Written  for  the  occasion." 
They  exhibited  the  greatest  versatility  of  both  tact  and  tal- 
ent, and  added  largely  to  the  interest  of  commencement- 
week.     Only  a  few  knew  tliat  he  was  the  author.     I  have 


r.4  LIFE  OF  r.OEEPvT  PAINE,   D.D. 

often  lamented  the  loss  of  these  productions.  Published, 
they  would  have  placed  liini  among  the  keenest  satirists  of 
the  age.  Against  popular  vices  he  was  intensely  severe, 
whilst  follies,  *'  humbugs,"  etc.,  he  laid  on  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  make  them  thoroughly  ludicrous  and  provoke  uni- 
versal mirth  and  laughter.  Had  he  been  ambitious  of  fame 
in  this  direction,  he  might  have  placed  his  name  along-side 
those  of  Juvenal  and  Horace  as  a  satirist.  He  always  seemed 
to  me  to  shun  rather  than  court  praise,  to  decline  rather 
than  seek  honors.  He  had  now  received,  without  seeking 
either  directly  or  indirectly,  the  degree  of  Master  of  Arts 
from  the  University  of  Nashville,  and  of  Doctor  of  Divinity 
from  the  Wesleyan  University.  He  had  fairly  "  won  his 
spurs,"  but  was  almost  too  modest  to  wear  them,  and  pre- 
ferred always  to  conceal  them  from  public  view. 

It  may  not  be  amiss,  before  leaving  the  college  to  which 
he  gave  so  many  years  of  his  valuable  life,  to  present  to  the 
reader  the  men  whom  he  selected  as  agents  to  solicit  and 
collect  money  for  building  and  endowing  the  institution. 
Among  the  earliest  was  Rev.  William  McMahon.  He  was 
in  many  respects  one  of  the  first  men  in  the  Conference. 
He  was  a  fine  financier,  a  good  manager  of  men,  a  superior 
preacher,  and  joossessed  of  great  energy  and  perseverance  in 
any  good  cause.  He  was  devoted  to  Methodism  and  to 
INIethodist  education.  He  loved  North  Alabama,  and  La 
Grange  was  the  brightest  crown  of  North  Alabama  Method- 
ism. Dr.  McMahon  secured  some  money  and  was  well  re- 
ceived in  Georgia,  and  obtained  partial  cooperation  from  the 
]\Iethodists  of  that  great  State.  La  Grange,  however,  was 
soon  found  to  be  too  remote,  and  the  means  of  access  were 
then  too  difficult,  to  allow  of  any  continued  patronage.  In 
a  few  years  Emory  College  began  its  useflil  career.  It  was 
the  object  of  President  Paine  to  have  the  cooperation  of  all 
the  Southern  Conferences,  and  make  La  Grange  a  great  cen- 


r.isiioi'  OF  Tin:  M.  i:.  cirrKcii,  8(3utii,  65 


tor,  attnu'tiiii,^  its  i)ii])ils  l)y  tlie  liuiidivd.s  uiid  from  a  united 
^M)uth.  Had  lie  .siieeecded  in  thif<,  lie  would  have  acconi- 
j)li8hed  much  more  than  he  did.  As  it  was,  the  Centenary 
College  in  Mississippi,  and  the  school  tii>tat  Covington  and 
then  at  Oxlbrd,  Ga.,  now  Emory  College,  taught  him  that 
the  concentration  of  a  united  South  upon  La  Grange  would 
be  impostsible.  ^ 

John  B.  McFerrin  was  also  employed  in  his  youth  to 
plead  the  cause  of  th.e  college  before  the  Methodists  of  'W  n- 
nessee.  He  was  then  a  strong  man,  and  in  the  vigor  of  a 
rol)ust  young  manhood.  He  did  what  he  could,  but  was  not 
satisfied  to  give  his  youthful  vigor  to  begging  money  for  the 
college.  He,  however,  learned  well  the  art  of  begging,  and 
became  almost  irresistible  in  that  department  of  our  work. 
If  the  man  lives  who  can  invent  more  arguments,  or  exhibit 
more  tact,  or  make  stronger  appeals  in  behalf  of  any  great 
benevolent  enterprise  than  Dr.  John  B.  McFerrin,  I  have 
never  known  him.  He  was  trammeled  in  this  agency  by 
some  resolution  of  Conference  requiring  that  he  should  not 
ask  for  large  sums.  He  wanted  no  bands  on  his  free  liml)s, 
and  after  a  year's  toil,  not  altogether  fruitless,  he  returned 
to  the  pastorate.  * 

I  must  not  omit  the  Rev.  Littleton  Fowler,  who  became 
a  most  successful  agent,  and  served  the  college  until  he  was 
sent  as  a  missionary  to  Texas  to  supply  the  place  made 
vacant  by  the  death  of  Dr.  Martin  Ruter.  At  one  time  it 
was  thought  that  he  would  be  able  to  secure  ample  endow- 
ment for  the  college.  He  was  a  fine  specimen  of  the  Ken- 
tucky Methodist  preacher,  and  both  as  a  man  and  as  a 
preacher  deserved  the  highest  respect  and  the  lai-gest  con- 
fidence. 

President  Paine  went  also  into  the  local  ranks,  and  found 
the  Rev.  Simpson  Shepherd  and  secured  his  services  as 
agent  for  the  college.     Mr.  She])herd  was  a  warm-hearted 


f)6  LIFE   OF   ROBERT   PAINE,   D.D. 

Irishman  of  magnificent  presence.  Among  a  thousand  men 
he  "would  be  pointed  out  as  a  leading  character.  Then,  lie 
was  an  eloquent  preacher  and  superior  to  most  men  on  the 
platform.  His  rich  Irish  brogue  added  to  the  force  of  well- 
chosen  language  and  to  the  power  of  a  voice  of  unusual 
ccmpass,  tone,  and  strength.  He  did  active  and  successful 
service  for  years  ^r  the  college.  Among  the  most  success- 
ful of  the  agents  employed  by  President  Paine  was  the  Rev. 
J.  W.  Hanner.  As  a  preacher  he  had  no  superior  in  the 
Tennessee  Conference.  Dr.  Hanner  traveled  extensively 
over  Alabama.  He  was  unremitting  in  his  toil,  and  self- 
denying  to  an  unusual  extent.  He  preached,  he  visited,  he 
made  j^rivate  appeals,  he  delivered  public  addresses,  and  by 
every  means  in  his  power  sought  to  do  the  work  of  a  master- 
workman.  At  the  time  of  his  employment  as  a  college 
agent,  John  W.  Hanner  would  have  been  acceptable  in  any 
pulpit — welcome  to  any  city  church  in  the  Connection. 

These  were  some  of  the  men  selected  by  President  Paine 
and  employed  by  the  Trustees  to  aid  him  in  the  difficult 
task  of  building  up  La  Grange  College.  That  the  col- 
lege was  not  endowed  was  his  misfortune,  but  not  his 
fault.  It  commenced  its  career  without  endowment  and 
without  buildings.  To  succeed,  buildings  must  be  erected, 
and  a  Faculty  equal  to  the  best  miLst  be  engaged.  The 
tuition  fees  were  not  at  all  equal  to  the  support  of  six  pro- 
fessors. To  pay  the  professors,  agents  had  to  collect  from 
two  to  three  thousand  dollars  a  year.  This,  added  to  the 
tuition  fees,  would  give  a  support  by  no  means  liberal  to  the 
Faculty.  At  one  time  I  knew  the  President  to  give  of  his 
salary  one  thousand  dollars  in  order  to  save  the  college. 
He  did  this  voluntarily  for  years.  That  is  to  say,  his  salary 
Avas  eigliteen  hundred  dollars,  and  he  voluntarily  reduced  it 
to  eight  hundred  dollars  a  year,  and  thus  saved  the  insti- 
tution.    Other  officers  imitated  his  generous  sacrifice  and 


>JI6II()P   OF  TIIK   M.  E.  CIirHCII,  HOUTIL  67 

tollowed  his  example.  In  this  ^vay,  and  in  this  way  alone, 
the  college  could  have  been  ])re8erved  and  continued  on  its 
career  of  usefulness.  I  doubt  whether  the  annals  of  any 
college  will  show  greater  sacrifice  than  was  shown  in  this 
one  act  of  its  devoted  President.  I  was  a  member  of  the 
Faculty  at  the  time,  and  was  deeply  impressed  by  his  man- 
ner when  he  came  to  me  with  the  proposkion,  and  felt  that 
he  deserved  all  the  confidence  and  the  honor  which  he  en- 
joyed. His  sacrifice  of  one  thousand  dollars  a  year,  and 
thereby  securing  a  sacrifice  of  two  or  three  hundred  from 
each  member  of  the  Faculty,  seems  to  me  now  as  one  of 
the  noblest  acts  of  a  noble  life,  and  one  rarely  equaled  in 
the  history  of  colleges.  Besides  making  this  sacrifice,  he 
gave  as  liberally  as  any  other  man  to  the  institution.  By 
employing  the  best  agents  to  be  found,  either  in  the  Confer- 
ence or  out  of  it,  by  securing  the  best  talents  in  the  Faculty, 
and  visiting  the  Legislature  again  and  again-,  by  labor  and 
self-denial  he  labored  to  give  to  the  Church  and  to  the 
country  an  institution  of  learning  which  he  hoped  would 
be  perpetual.     Was  all  his  labor  lost?     We  will  see. 


G8  LIFE  OF  EGBERT  PAINE,  D.D. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

Carlos  G.  Smith — College  Life  Closing — Work 
Accomplished. 

IN  the  year  1843  I  was  called  to  the  presidency  of  a  new 
enterprise — a  school  for  young  ladies  at  Athens,  Ala. 
Dr.  Carlos  G.  Smith  was  elected  my  successor  as  Professor 
of  Languages  in  La  Grange  College.  A  wiser  selection 
could  not  have  been  made.  Dr.  Smith  entered  uj^on  his 
duties  in  September,  1843.  He  soon  proved  himself  a  mas- 
ter-Avorkman  that  needed  not  to  be  ashamed.  He  was  an  ac- 
complished scholar  and  an  elegant  Christian  gentleman, 
and  did  faithful  service  to  the  college.  The  college  was 
possibly  never  better  manned  than  at  this  time.  It  com- 
manded wide  and  universal  respect.  For  years  it  kept 
along-side  of  the  best  institutions  of  the  country.  The 
time  was  rapidly  approaching  when  its  laborious  and 
gifted  President  was  to  be  called  to  a  more  responsible  po- 
sition in  the  Church,  and  a  much  wider  field  of  action. 
Let  us  see  what  had  been  done  in  the  way  of  molding 
character  and  in  sending  out  educated  men  to  bless  the 
Church  and  the  Avorld. 

Among  the  ministers  sent  out  were  the  Rev.  William 
R.  Nicholson,  now  a  Bishop  in  the  Reformed  Episcopal 
Church ;  the  Rev.  Joseph  E.  Douglass,  for  a  long  time  suc- 
cessfully engaged  in  the  great  work  of  education ;  James  O. 
Williams,  who  was  wonderful  for  his  magnetism,  and  some- 
times for  eloquence  of  a  high  order;  P.  J.  Eckles,  a  man 
of  rare  merit,  accurate  scholarship,  and  patient  devotion  to 
duty;  C.  W.  Rozzell,  after  graduating  with  honor,  entered 
ni>()ii   tlie  work  of  the  ministry,  and   while  using  his  in- 


lilSIIOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHUHCII,  SOUTH.  69 

fluence  and  establishing  a  name  worthy  of  mention  among 
the  good  and  great,  Avas  called  to  his  final  reward;  Dr.  C. 
W.  Bell,  one  of  the  most  distingnished  ministers  of  the 
Cumberland  Presbyterian  Church,  is  another  of  the  noble 
band  sent  out  from  La  Grange  College  during  the  adminis- 
tration of  Dr.  Paine.  Then  A.  P.  McFei'rin,  Bynum,  Dun- 
can, Henning,  and  many  others,  among  whom  we  take  pleas- 
ure in  mentioning  Dr.  Alva  Johnson  and  Rev.  R.  V.  Taylor, 
two  noble  men,  the  latter  still  a  member  of  the  jNIemphis 
Conference,  holding  diplomas  witli  the  well-known  signa- 
ture of  Robert  Paine.  Then  among  lawyers  we  name 
Edward  O'Neal,  now  Governor  of  Alabama;  the  talented 
Lewis,  also  Governor  of  the  State  in  troublous  times;  and 
the  versatile  Clements,  the  rival  of  Yancey,  both  a  poet  and 
novelist,  a  politician  and  lawyer,  a  writer  and  a  speaker. 
No  State  ever  l)oasted  a  purer  citizen,  a  nobler  man,  a  gen- 
tler Christian,  an  abler  jurist  than  was  William  M.  Byrd, 
a  graduate  of  the  college  in  its  early  days,  1837.  As  re- 
tiring as  Cincinnatus,  and  as  meritorious  as  he  was  modest, 
he  lost  his  life  by  a  railroad  accident  while  in  the  midst  of 
usefulness,  and  while  returning  from  a  mission  of  peace. 
Judge  W.  B.  Wood,  who  is  ever  foremost  in  the  great  bat- 
tle of  life,  foremost  in  Church  and  in  State,  ready  to  lead  an 
army  or  hold  up  the  banner  of  the  cross,  received  his  train- 
ing from  this  successful  educator.  Judge  H.  C.  Jones,  the 
able  prosecutor  and  powerful  advocate,  the  terror  of  evil- 
doers, and  one  of  the  most  respected  of  the  citizens  of  Ala- 
bama, was  a  graduate  in  1840.  Gen.  Thomas  Rivers,  the 
only  brother  of  the  writer,  a  lawyer  in  ^Memphis,  Tenn., 
Knd  a  Representative  in  Congress  from  the  Memphis  District, 
was  also  an  aliimuus  of  La  Grange,  and  among  its  earlier 
graduates.  Col.  Thomas  Avery  was  also  a  lawyer  of  dis- 
tinction and  a  member  of  Congress  from  ]Mrinphis,  Tenn. 
He  was  a  man  of  talents  and  tireat  moral  worth.     Joel  L. 


LIFE  OF   KOBEKT   PAiXK,   D.D. 


Pulliuin,  one  of  the  most  successflil  members  of  the  bar  in 
West  Tennessee,  died  a  humble  Christian.  Of  physicians 
we  may  mention  Dr.  Joseph  Towler,  of  Cokimbia,  Tenn., 
who  has  long  stood  at  the  head  of  his  profession,  and  is 
to-day  one  of  the  brightest  lights  in  Tennessee,  a  scholar,  a 
gentleman,  a  Christian  worthy  to  be  sent  forth  by  the  form- 
ing hand  of  Robert  Paine.  Dr.  J.  J.  Pulliam,  like  his 
brother  the  lawyer,  became  eminent  in  his  profession,  hon- 
oring his  alma  mater,  and  honored,  respected,  and  lamented 
by  all  who  knew  him.  Dr.  Thomas  Maddin,  of  Nashyille, 
Tenn.,  whose  name  is  the  synonym  of  all  that  is  courtly  in 
the  gentleman  and  skillful  in  the  physician,  the  worthy  son 
of  a  noble  sire,  and  the  equally  worthy  pupil  of  a  dis- 
tinguished teacher,  is  numbered  among  the  alumni  whom 
President  Paine  sent  forth  to  bless  the  world. 

So  we  could  go  on  enumerating  men,  in  eyery  profession 
and  in  no  profession,  who  w^ere  deyeloped  into  noble  man- 
hood by  him  wdiose  life  was  one  continued  scene  of  successes 
both  in  the  school-room  and  in  the  pulpit.  He  eyer  exer- 
cised tow^ard  his  old  pupils  the  exultant  feeling  which 
filled  the  heart  of  the  Roman  matron  when,  pointing  to  her 
sons,  she  said,  "  These  are  my  jew^els."  He  met  them  every- 
where, as  he  Avent  all  oyer  the  South ;  and  wheneyer  he  met 
them  there  w^ere  warm  greetings  and  tender  memories. 

Augusta  College,  Kentucky,  was  possibly  the  first  great 
collegiate  institution — in  all  respects  a  college — undertaken 
by  the  Methodists  of  the  South.  La  Grange  College  was 
the  second  in  point  of  time.  As  we  haye  showii,  it  was  in 
1830.  This  was  before  Randolph-Macon,  and  before  Emory, 
of  Georgia.  Was  all  the  labor  lost  which  Dr.  Paine  and 
his  associates  performed  during  these  sixteen  years  and  six 
months?  We  think  not.  Dr.  Wadsworth  succeeded  to  the 
presidency  in  1847,  and  was  in  turn  succeeded  by  President 
Hardy.     These  were  able  men,  and  deyoted  much  time  and 


liisiior  OF  Tin:  m.  e.  ciiukch,  south.  71 


lahcr  to  the  buildiiiix  up  of  the  college.  In  1853  President 
Hardy  died.  He  was  universally  lamented.  His  death 
Avas  a  terrible  blow  to  the  college.  Under  another  Presi- 
dent, in  the  year  1854,  the  people  of  Florence  offered  to  pay 
off  an  old  debt,  to  give  to  the  Conferences  better  ])uildings, 
and  to  secure  fixtures,  local  patronage,  and  endowment  suf- 
ficient to  justify  removal.  The  college  was  removed  and 
it^  name  changed.  At  the  breaking  out  of  the  great  civil 
war  in  1861,  it  numbered  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  stu- 
dents, and  graduated  a  class  of  thirty-three.  It  also  had  a 
clear  endowment  of  fifty  thousand  dollars,  and  was  entirely 
out  of  debt.  During  the  war  its  endowment  was  lost,  and 
its  doors  were  closed.  Bishop  Paine,  in  his  "  Notes  of. Life," 
says:  "Randolph-Macon  opened  under  charter  in  Mecklen- 
burg, Va.— I  believe  in  1832 — while  I  organized  La  Grange 
in  1830." 

Randolph-]Macon  has  been  transferred  to  Ashland  witli- 
out  a  change  of  name  or  of  relations,  while  La  Grange  Col- 
lege changed  its  location  to  Florence,  Ala.,  and  has  since 
become  the  "Normal  Alabama  College,"  and  is  now  a  use- 
ful and  flourishing  institution.  This  is  true;  the  college 
at  Florence  was  actually  given  to  the  State  of  Alabama  by 
the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  South.  So  the  work  of 
Bishop  Paine  and  his  associates  and  successors  still  lives  in 
an  institution  which  promises  great  and  increasing  useful- 
ness to  the  State  which  received  it  as  a  free  gift  from  the 
Church.  The  propriety  of  this  transfer  of  a  valuable  prop- 
erty, unincumbered  by  debt,  will  not  be  discussed  in  these 
pages.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  to  the  last  of  his  life  Bishop 
Paine  always  regarded  the  school  at  Florence  as  the  con- 
tinuation of  the  one  organized  by  himself  in  1830.  So 
most  certainly  it  is,  though  under  another  name  and  under 
different  aus})ice*?.  Its  value  is  largely  due  to  the  early 
efforts  of  I*resideut  I*aiue  and  his  associates. 


72  LIFE  OF   ROBETIT   PAINE,   D.D. 


CHAPTER   X   I. 

Love  for   the   Chukch. 

1BEG  the  reader  to  pause  for  a  moment  and  to  consider 
one  of  the  leading  traits  of  character  as  deveh^ped  in  the 
life  we  are  now  sketching.  This  trait  was  love  for  the  Meth- 
odist Church.  From  the  moment  of  his  conversion  and  im- 
mediate connection  with  the  Church  to  the  day  of  his  death, 
he  never  would  have  hesitated  to  die  for  its  interests  in  obe- 
dience to  the  call  of  the  Holy  Spirit ;  and  from  love  for  the 
Church  he  surrendered  wealth,  position,  worldly  prospects, 
and  entered  upon  the  troubled  life  and  severe  labors  of  an 
itinerant  Methodist  preacher.  At  that  early  day  ^lethod- 
ism  was  not  what  it  is  now.  It  was  then  a  despised  sect. 
It  had  not  in  all  its  borders  a  single  minister  who  ever 
ranked  as  a  Doctor  of  Divinity.  Colleges  and  universities 
had  failed  to  recognize  the  talents  and  learning  even  of  our 
Bishops.  All  these  institutions  of  learning  were  in  the 
hands  of  other  denominations,  and  were  presided  over  by 
many  of  their  ministers.  At  the  period  at  which  Robert 
Paine  entered  upon  his  great  life-work  I  do  not  suppose  that 
a  single  State  university  was  or  ever  had  been  presided  over 
by  a  Methodist  minister.  With  a  salary  of  a  hundred  dol- 
lars a  year,  there  was  no  prospect  of  ever  rising  to  wealtli. 
He  could  have  chosen  other  of  the  learned  professions,  and 
have  won  both  wealth  and  honor.  His  personal  magnetism 
would  have  made  him  a  leader  in  politics,  while  his  wit  and 
sarcasm,  together  with  his  clear,  logical  mind  and  natural 
powers  of  oratory,  would  have  soon  placc<l  him  in  the  first 
ranks  as  a  lawver.     But  love  for  the  Church  was  strongei 


BlSIIOr  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTIL  73 

tlian  love  tor  any  of  the  ciuolunieiits  wliit'h  could  be  secured 
by  any  other  profession.  The  same  enthusiastic  passion  sent 
him  into  the  then  wilderness  of  Alabama  to  preach  the  gospel 
to  its  sparse  and  scattered  ]>opulati()n.  His  circuit  occupied 
nearly  one-fourth  of  the  State,  and  his  labors  were  so  great 
as  to  almost  wreck  for  the  time  being  his  strong  constitution. 
After  most  extraordinary  and  continuous  labor,  he  went  up 
to  the  Conference  almost  an  invalid,  and  the  presiding 
Bishop  saw  it  would  not  do  for  him  to  be  returned  to  that 
field.  It  was  love  for  the  Church  alone  that  caused  him 
to  take  charge  of  La  Grange  College.  He  had  to  make 
sacrifices  of  which  he  never  made  any  boast  and  which 
were  never  known  to  the  Church.  He  had  large  and  valu- 
able possessions  in  Nashville,  which  he  might  have  kej)! 
and  looked  after  until  they  would  have  yielded  him  enough 
to  satisfy  any  reasonable  desires  for  wealth.  As  all  his  in- 
terests were  in  Alabama,  he  sold  this  city  property  before 
Nashville  had  fairly  entered  upon  its  career  as  a  prosperous 
city.  He  knew  that  he  was  making  a  great  worldly  sacri- 
fice, but  the  Church  demanded  his  labors  elsewhere,  and 
the  sacrifice  was  readily  made. 

Again  and  again  had  he  resigned  his  position  as  President 
of  La  Grange  College,  and  as  often  had  he  withdrawn  it 
because  the  Church  required  that  he  continue  at  the  seat 
of  her  cherished  institution. 

At  a  certain  time,  when  the  election  of  delegates  to  the 
General  Conference  was  about  to  begin,  I  knew  him  to  rise 
in  his  seat,  and  beg  the  brethren  for  the  sake  of  the  Church 
not  to  cast  their  votes  for  him.  He  said:  "We  have  here 
a  distinguished  transfer  from  another  Conference.  He  ought 
to  be  elected.  His  talents,  his  devotion  to  the  Church,  his 
having  heretofore  filled  the  place  of  delegate  from  another 
Conference,  and  his  great  influence  in  the  General  Confer- 
ence, all  demand  that  he  be  sent  as  a  delegate  from  the 


74  LIFE  OF   KOKERT   PAINE,   D.D. 


Tennessee  Conference,  of  which,  by  transfer,  he  has  just  be- 
come a  member.  Brethren,  I  urge  his  chiims,  and  l)eg  that 
you  vote  for  him  and  not  for  me."  I  recollect  well  the  time 
and  the  scene  of  these  remarks.  The  transfer  was  elected, 
and  so  was  Robert  Paine,  We  could  not  do  without  his 
services  in  the  General  Conference  just  at  that  important 
juncture. 

At  a  still  later  period  it  was  love  for  the  Church  and  a 
sense  of  duty  that  caused  him  to  accept  the  office  of  Bisho]). 
He  says  in  his  diary:  "What  shall  I  do?  Am  not  suited 
for  its  heavy  responsibilities,  constitutionally  unfit  —  too 
hasty,  too  little  self-|X)ssession,  want  of  decision ;  above  all, 
want  of  more  piety,  absence  from  my  dear  family.  I  give 
myself  to  God  and  his  Church  for  life  and  in  death.  May 
all  be  his!  What  shall  I  do?  I  almost  sink  under  it.  O 
God,  to  whom  I  have  long  since  devoted  myself  and  my 
all,  direct  me!" 

He  loved  the  doctrines  of  the  Church,  He  was  a  thor- 
ough Arminian  and  a  most  devoted  Methodist.  Regenera- 
tion and  the  witness  of  the  Spirit  he  had  experienced  on 
the  memorable  9th  of  October,  1817.  He  never  doubted 
that.  The  following  letter  will  show  how  he  regarded  the 
doctrine  of  sanctification,  as  taught  by  Mr.  Wesley  and 
other  standard  writers  in  our  Church.  The  letter  was  writ- 
ten to  the  Rev.  J.  S.  Spencer.     He  says: 

Shortly  after  ray  conversion — indeed,  I  may  say  at  once — I  began 
to  exhort  my  family  to  turn  to  God.  I  could  not  be  silent,  and  soon 
1  was  trying  to  preach.  I  scarcely  paused  to  reason  on  the  question 
of  my  call  to  the  ministry,  but  was  in  the  work  and  at  it  directly.  I 
have  not  since  felt  at  liberty  to  quit  the  itinerant  work.  Long 
and  earnestly  I  sought  the  blessing  of  perfect  love.  Once  or  twice 
while  preaching  upon  it  I  liave  felt  constrained  to  say  I  know  the 
blessing  is  attainal)le  from  my  own  overpowering  emotions  of  the 
divine  fullness,  but  unfortunately  I  have  not,  after  calm  reflection, 
felt  satisfied  as  to  my  having  attained  it.     I  believe  in  it,  pray  for  it, 


BISIIOI*  OF  THE  M,  E.  CIII'IUII,  SOUTH.  75 

and  amid  inaiiy  disrouram'iiK'nts  arising  fmni  my  own  want  of  faith, 
am  still  trying  to  he  wholly  tlevoted  to  Ciod.  1  wish  1  was  as  well 
satislied  of  my  attainment  of  this  hlessing  as  1  am  of  the  truth  «f  the 
Christian  religion  and  of  the  doctrine  ol'  Christian  holiness.  1  re- 
gard it  as  the  great  (Usldirnliiiii  of  the  ministry  and  meml)ershi[>.  We 
need  holiness  more  than  any  thing  else.  We  need  other  things,  many 
things,  but  (lu's  most  of  all.  We  need  it  to  make  lis  happy  and  use- 
ful. The  C'huri'h  will  degenerate,  and  cease  to  be  a  working  and 
spiritual  body,  unless  she  aspires  after  holiness;  and  nothing  but  ho- 
liness will  keep  alive  in  our  preachers  the  simple,  fervent,  and  self- 
sacrificing  spirit  of  our  fatliers.  For  this  there  is  no  substitute  as  to 
success  or  final  happiness.  Methodists  are  committed  by  their  cr^ed 
to  this  doctrine.  Consistency  demands  that,  believing  it,  we  seek  the 
blessing.  We  are  the  only  Church  which  has  boldly  taken  the  ground. 
If  we  be  faithful  to  it,  God  will  not  abandon  us.  If  not  faithful,  he 
will  cast  us  ofi"  and  raise  up  another  more  devoted  and  holy  people. 
He  ought  to  do  so,  and  will  do  it.  He  cannot  deny  himself,  and  ho- 
liness is  his  requirement — "Be  ye  holy,  for  I  am  holy;"  "Without 
holiness,  no  man  shall  see  the  Lord."  This  work  is  begun  in  con- 
version, but  its  consummation  in  perfect  love  has  as  distinctive  and 
clear  a  witness  from  the  Holy  Spirit  as  our  regeneration.  It  is  our 
privilege  and  duty  to  seek  this  state  and  this  evidence,  God  help 
us!     Yours  truly,  K.  Paine. 

I  doubt  whether  any  meinber  or  minister  in  all  our  vast 
Connection  ever  loved  the  Church  with  a  deeper,  holier 
fervor. 

At  two  different  periods  in  his  life  he  felt  called  upon  tc 
defend  the  peculiar  doctrines  of  jNIethodism  against  the  at- 
tacks of  ministers  of  sister  denominations.  This  he  did 
bravely  and  successfully.  He  showed  the  rarest  ability  in 
ecclesiastical  and  doctrinal  conflicts.  Calvinism  felt  the 
shock  throughout  the  South.  From  the  day  that  its  errors 
were  exposed  by  Robert  Paine,  then  in  his  early  manhood 
in  Tennessee,  to  this  very  time,  the  ablest  ministers  of  that 
iaith  have  failed  to  preach  the  revolting  points  of  the  West- 
minster Creed.  Election  and  reprobation,  as  tauglit  in  the 
Shor^cJ'  Catechism,  and  as  argued  in  Calvin's  Institutes, 


76  LIFE   OF   FOB!  RT   FATNE,   D.D. 

1  live  not  been  often  presented  even  from  Calvinistic  pulpits. 
Both  with  his  pen  and  in  public  preaching  he  exposes  errors 
Avhich  he  regarded  as  dishonoring  to  God  as  they  were  op- 
l)osed  to  his  revealed  will. 

Yet  with  all  his  love  for  the  Church  of  his  choice,  and  with 
his  readiness  to  defend  the  truth  and  to  oppose  error,  he  was 
alwa3's  charitable  and  courteous.  After  a  debate  which  lasted 
for  days,  the  Christian  spirit  which  prevailed  between  the  com- 
batants so  affected  the  listeners  that  a  deep  religious  impres- 
sicgi  was  made.  This  being  followed  up  on  the  next  Sunday 
by  an  appeal  from  Mr.  Paine,  a  great  awakening  succeeded. 
The  revival  which  followed  was  one  of  great  power,  and  it 
did  not  end  until  there  was  a  general  baptism  of  the  Spirit 
and  many  were  happily  converted  to  God.  Both  parties  to 
the  contest  engaged  in  the  revival,  and  as  a  rare  occurrence 
a  hotly  contested  debate  terminated  in  a  splendid  revival  of 
religion. 

And  yet  with  all  his  love  for  the  Church  of  his  choice — 
its  doctrine  and  jiolity — he  was  as  far  from  bigotry  as  he 
was  from  indecision.  A  pronounced  Methodist,  he  was  ever 
ready  to  give  the  right-hand  of  fellowship  to  all  that  named 
the  name  of  Christ.  A  Methodist,  but  not  a  sectarian ;  de- 
cided, but  not  bigoted;  earnest,  but  not  exclusive — he  coni- 
nianded  and  deserved  the  love  of  all  true  followers  of  Clu'ist. 


r.rsiior  of  tiik  m.  e.  ciiriMii,  sorxii.  77 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

The  General  Conference  of  1844— The  Sequence. 

THE  General  Conference  of  1844  was  now  approaching. 
Dr.  Paine  was  of  course  a  delegate.  Bishop  Andrew 
in  the  interval  of  the  Conferences  of  1840  and  1844  had 
become  connected  with  the  institution  of  slavery.  He  was 
without  a  stain  upon  his  moral  or  religious  character.  His 
connection  arose  from  having  married  a  woman  who  was  a 
slave-holder.  He  went  to  the  Conference  with  no  apprehen- 
sion of  the  terrible  ecclesiastical  storm  which  Avould  be  raised 
around  his  devoted  head.  He  and  his  friends  in  the  South 
soon  saw  the  storm  gathering.  He  w^as  to  be  sacrificed. 
There  was  no  alternative.  It  was  resolved  to  be  the  sense 
of  the  Conference  that  he  no  longer  exercise  episcopal  func- 
tions. To  submit  to  the  passage  of  this  resolution  without 
a  protest  would  have  been  unjust  to  the  Bishop,  and,  as  Dr. 
Olin  admitted,  a  perpetual  bar  to  the  continuance  of  Meth- 
odism in  the  slave-holding  States. 

Good  and  great  men  differed.  The  struggle  was  between 
giants.  The  Bishop  was  virtually  deposed.  The  South  must 
sustain  him.  His  case  excited  the  deepest  sympathies  of  the 
best  men  in  the  North.  No  one  can  ever  forget  the  speech 
of  Dr.  Olin.  He  himself  had  been  connected  with  slavery. 
He  had  severed  the  relations  so  for  as  he  was  individually 
concerned  by  selling  his  slaves.  He  believed  this  to  be  legal 
and  proper.  He  was  to  go  North.  His  health  demanded 
it.  He  could  not  carry  his  slaves  with  him.  He  sold  them, 
and  used  the  money.  He  felt  that  the  good  .of  the  Church 
demanded  now  the  immolation  of  his  friend,  who  was  cer- 
tainly no  more  guilty  than  himself.     So  the  work  was  done. 


78  LIFE  OF  ROIJEPvT  PAINE,   D.D. 


Dr.  Paine  was  placed  on  the  committee  of  nine  appointed 
especially  to  devise  means  for  a  peaceable  separation.  Pru- 
dent and  good  men  from  both  sections  were  on  that  com- 
mittee. Dr.  Paine  was  chairman.  Never  was  prudence 
more  needed.  Never  was  there  a  greater  demand  for  Chris- 
tian charity.  The  committee  acted  wisely  and  well.  The 
South  was  satisfied — nay,  more,  was  gratified.  If  peace 
could  not  be  enjoyed  except  by  a  severance  of  Church  rela- 
tions, then  was  it  their  duty  to  separate.  Let  there  be  no 
strife.  This  was  the  Christian  motto.  To  conserve  peace 
was  the  design  of  this  committee,  and  the  whole  object  of 
its  action.  The  peace-loving  Capers,  the  majestic  Winans, 
the  sweet-spirited  Drake,  the  two  Pierces — father  and  son — 
and  the  peerless  Bascom,  with  others  from  the  South,  were 
lending  all  their  influence  to  carry  out  this  grand  measure. 
Then  there  were  those  from  the  North,  not  less  pious,  and 
not  less  eflacient  in  jDromoting  a  measure  believed  to  be  for 
the  best  interests  of  both  sections.  Such  men  as  Nathan 
Bangs,  Bishop  Morris,  and  Stephen  01  in  brought  to  bear 
the  weight  of  great  character  and  the  poAver  of  holy  charity 
to  effect  an  arrangement  which  would  quiet  the  storm  by 
pouring  oil  upon  the  troubled  waters.  The  action  of  the 
Conference  of  1844  resulted,  as  is  well  known,  in  the  or- 
ganization of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  South.  In 
1845  the  convention  of  delegates  chosen  in  exact  accordance 
with  the  plan  of  separation  assembled  in  Louisville,  Ky. 
At  that  convention  the  organization  was  peacefully  and 
unanimously  effected.  In  its  proceedings  Dr.  Paine  was 
conspicuous.  His  firmness,  caution,  wisdom,  and  piety  were 
all  needed  and  brought  into  requisition.  He  delivered  be- 
fore the  convention  an  address  admirable  in  its  spirit,  con- 
vincing in  its  logic,  and  powerfiil  in  its  effect.  The  conven- 
tion appointed  the  meeting  of  the  first  Southern  General 
Conference  to  be  held  in  Petersburg,  Va.     It  was  presided 


RISIIOP  OF  THK  M.  E.  CIIURCir,  SOUTH.  70 


over  by  Bit^hops  Soiile  and  Andrew.     It  was  then  manifest 
tliat  both  these  Bishops  wouhl  eontinue  their  episcopal  func- 
tions.     The  adlierence  of   Bishop  Soule  to   the  Southern 
Church  was  the  result  of  deliberate  reflection  and  of  con- 
scientious convictions  on  the  part  of  that  great  and  good 
man.     He  was  the  senior  Bishop  of  the  Methodist  Episco- 
])al  Church.     He  was  revered  at  the  South  as  almost  with- 
out a  peer.     He  was  "every  in.ch  a  man,"  and  every  inch 
a  Chi-istian  of  the  highest  type.     So  the  Southern  organi- 
zation could  in  no  sense  be  termed  a  secession.     It  was  le- 
gitimate.     It  was  i)roper.     It  was  aj)proved  of  God.      It 
contained  all  the  cardinal  doctrines  and  the  discipline  of 
the  undivided  Church.     Had  the  terms  of  separation  been 
rigidly  and    properly   complied    with    by   both   Churches, 
North   and  South,  much   evil   would   have  been  averted, 
and  much  violent  controversy  avoided.     The  plan  was  de- 
vised by  the  committee  of  nine,  and  was  veil  carried  out  b} 
the  Louisville  Convention.     To  Dr.  Paine  as  much  as  to 
any  other  man  are  we  indebted  for  this  great  pacific  meas 
ure,  honorable  to  both  sections  and  perfectly  acceptable  to 
the  South.     He  was  faithful  to  the  high  trust  committed  to 
him,  and  though  opposed  to  controversy  was  drawn  into 
one  of  rather  a  heated  nature  with  the  Rev.  Thos.  E.  Bond. 
That  controversy  will  not  be  revived  in  these  pages.    Through 
it  all  Dr.  Paine  adhered  to  the  most  rigid  demands  of  truth, 
and  ahvays  showed  himself  the  courtly  gentleman  and  the 
dignified  Christian  minister. 

A  long  and  friendly  correspondence '\vas  kept  up  between 
Dr.  Paine  and  Bishop  Morris  in  reference  to  the  best  inter- 
ests of  the  Church.  He  and  Bishop  ^lorris  had  been  friends 
from  early  manhood,  and  this  friendship  continued  unbro- 
ken and  rather  cemented,  more  tender  and  confidential,  all 
through  the  heated  controversy  which  attended  and  followed 
the  organization  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  South. 


so  LIFE  OF  ROBERT   PAINE,   D.D. 

Amid  all  this  strife,  these  two  men  continued  to  love  each 
other  as  did  David  and  Jonathan.  Their  example  was  beau- 
tiful. Their  Christian  charity  shone  all  the  brighter  because 
of  the  bitterness  which  was  fostered  to  an  extent  which  re- 
flected no  honor  or  glory  upon  Christian  character,  and 
which  certainly  lessened  the  world's  respect  for  the  religion 
of  meekness,  forbearance,  and  love. 

But  let  the  dead  past  bury  its  dead.  The  long  strife,  we 
trust,  is  ended  forever.  One  of  his  last  acts  was  to  have 
Bishop  Peck  at  his  house,  and  to  enjoy  with  him  the  sweet- 
est Christian  converse.  Bishop  Peck  acknowledged  the  hos- 
pitality with  the  most  touching  evidences  of  fraternal  love. 
To  see  these  two  Bishops,  one  above  four-score  years,  the 
other  past  his  three-score  and  ten,  commune  in  the  spirit  of 
love,  and  enjoy  each  other's  society  as  they  did,  were  a  ben- 
ediction in  any  age  of  the  Church.  Especially  was  it  a  ben- 
ediction at  the  time  and  under  the  circumstances  in  Avhich 
this  beautiful  display  of  fraternal  love  was  manifested. 


BrSTIOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CIIURCir.  SOUTH.  81 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

General  Conp^erence  of  184G — Strugglp:s — Victory. 

THUS  for  we  have  followed  Dr.  Paine  all  alonir  his  early 
years  and  to  the  ])ri!ne  of  mature  manhood.     We  have 
seen   him  the  sprightly,  mischievous  school-boy;  the  mer- 
chant's faithful  clerk  ;  tlie  close,  earnest  student,  poring  over 
the  classics  and  delving  into  mathematics.     We  have  seen 
him   the  humble  penitent,  the  happy  Christian,  and  the 
youthful  missionary.     Like  David,  he  goes  forth  with  peb- 
ble and  sling  to  conquer  the  Goliath  of  sin.     Without  prep- 
aration, without  license,  without  more  than  one  month's  ex- 
perience of  the  religion  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  he  is  found 
preaching  the  everlasting  gospel.     On  he  moves  and  upward 
he  rises  until  he  has  become  the  popular  young  preacher, 
attracting  crowds  of  hearers  in  the  rising  towns  of  Tennes- 
see, and  especially  in  the  promising  young  city  of  Njishville, 
Tenn.     A  presiding  elder  and  a  delegate  to  the  General 
Conference  immediately  after  his  ordination  as  elder  in  the 
Church  of  God,  he  continues  the  same  humljle,  i)rayerful, 
faithful  man.     The  loved  companion  of  Bishop  INIcKendree, 
and  aiding  that  venerable  man  in  the  preparation  of  the 
Bishops'  Address  to  the  General  Conference  before  he  was 
twenty-five  years  of  age,  he  seems  all  unconscious  of  the 
height  to  which  his  piety  and  talents  and  singular  moral 
worth  have  raised  him.      For  sixteen  years  we  have  seen 
him  the  rising  President  of  one  of  our  oldest  colleges.     In 
all  these  positions  he  exhibits  the  highest  manhood  and  a 
ca})ability  for  any  work  to  which  the  Church  might  call 
him.     The  General  Conference  of  1846,  which  was  held  at 
Petei-sburg,  Va.,  found  it  necessary  to  elect  two  Bishops. 
G 


82  LIFE  OF   PtOBEKT  FAIXE,   B.D. 

Bishop  Soiile  was  getting  to  be  an  old  man.  Then,  he  was 
troubled  with  a  chronic  disease  which  often  unfitted  him  for 
duty.  Bishop  Andrew  could  be  called  upon  for  years  to 
come,  but  he  could  not  do  all  the  work  needed.  William 
Capers  and  Robert  Paine  were  chosen  to  this  most  impor- 
tant and  responsible  office.  It  was  not  desired,  not  expected 
by  Dr.  Paine.  He  had  a  young  and  growing  family.  He 
loved  his  home.  He  shrunk  from  notoriety.  It  was  repug- 
nant to  his  feelings,  and  for  a  time  opposed  to  his  judgment. 
He  hesitated.  He  prayed.  He  struggled.  He  spent  a 
night  of  sleepless  agony.  He  passed  through  all  the  throes 
which  have  accompanied  great  men  when  called  by  Provi- 
dence to  a  great  work.  He  almost  rebelled.  Conscience 
— tender,  well  instructed,  and  which  had  always  been  kept 
void  of  offense  toward  God  and  man — asserted  its  authority. 
At  last  he  yielded,  and  was  happy.  The  Rev.  Fountain  E. 
Pitts,  who  spent  the  night  with  him,  and  saw  the  depth  of 
his  agony  and  witnessed  the  fearful  struggles  of  his  great 
soul,  and  who  had  been  a  great  revivalist,  said  that  the  con- 
flict reminded  him  of  the  wails  of  penitence  which  he  had 
often  heard  from  persons  under  the  deepest  conviction  for 
sin.  And  he  further  said  the  victory  was  as  complete  as 
he  had  ever  witnessed  in  the  conversion  of  a  soul.  When 
the  struggle  was  over  and  the  victory  had  been  won,  a  holy 
calmness,  a  great  submission  to  the  Divine  will,  and  a  firm 
resolve  to  meet  all  the  responsibilities  of  his  high  and  holy 
office,  followed,  and  he  rose  to  the  full  height  of  his  great 
calling,  and  settled  the  question  then  and  there  forever. 
Such  was  the  conflict  of  soul  through  which  he  passed  to 
the  highest  office  in  the  Church — the  highest  office  on  earth. 
He  was  not  elated.  The  office  had  sought  him.  The  honor 
had  come  unbidden.  Duty  to  God  and  man,  made  clear  by 
the  word  of  God  and  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  was  the  one  great 
and  all-sufficient  i-eason  for  assuming  such  grave  resiH)nsi- 


RISIIOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CIIURf'II,  SOUTH.  83 

bilities.  So  on  Tliunsday,  tlio  14tli  day  of  May,  1846,  he 
was  most  solemnly  set  a})ait  and  ordained  to  the  work  of  a 
Bishop  in  the  JMethodist  Ki)ise()pal  CMiurch,  South.  The 
services  were  conducted  by  13isho})s  Soule  and  Andrew. 
They  were  deeply  impressive.  It  was  in  Washington  Street 
Church,  Petersburg,  Va.  The  congregation  was  large,  and 
the  scene  a  hallowed  one.  All  the  men  engaged  in  the  cer- 
emony were  men  of  mark.  Bishop  Soule  arose  in  all  the 
dignity  of  his  high  office,  and  never  appeared  more  a  Bishop 
than  at  that  time.  Bishop  Andrew,  meek,  subdued,  yet 
strong,  showed  that  his  episcopal  robes  were  still  unsoiled, 
and  that  they  had  not  been  rudely  torn  from  his  manly 
form.  Dr.  Capers,  radiant  with  celestial  light,  gentle  as 
John,  evangelical,  earnest,  eloquent,  and  deeply  pious, 
received  with  meekness  the  mantle  of  Asbury,  and  by  the 
imposition  of  hands  was  most  solemnly  consecrated  as  an 
overseer  of  the  Church  of  God.  Robert  Paine,  younger  by 
many  years  than  his  colleague,  in  the  maturity  of  his  great 
intellect,  with  a  self-abnegation  worthy  of  a  martyr,  with 
victory  already  flashing  from  his  dark,  expressive  eyes,  and 
with  submission,  firmness,  and  faith  mingling  with  the  high 
est  resolve,  solemnly  took  the  vows,  and  from  that  hour  l)c 
came  a  INIethodist  Bishop.  Never  did  man  take  vows  more 
conscientiously;  never  were  vows  fulfilled  more  faithfully. 

At  the  close  of  this  General  Conference  he  returned  to 
La  Grange  College,  The  parting  with  Trustees  and  Fac- 
ulty and  students  was  very  sad  to  him.  Here  he  had  spent 
more  than  sixteen  years  of  his  valuable  life.  The  Trustees 
had  always  trusted  entirely  to  him.  Before  this  they  had 
clung  to  him,  refused  again  and  again  to  accept  his  resigna- 
tion. The  students  loved  him  as  a  father,  and  looked  up  to 
him  as  their  best  friend  and  wisest  counselor.  The  Faculty 
all  felt  that  it  would  be  almost  iin])ossil)le  to  find  a  successor 
v.ho  would  combine  all  the  (jualities  of  a  groat  President 


8t  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,  D.D. 

which  belonged  to  Bishop  Paine.  His  magnanimity,  his 
readiness  to  assume  responsibility,  his  fearlessness  in  admin- 
istering discii)line;  his  magnetism  among  the  boys,  drawing 
them  all  to  him ;  his  ability  as  an  instructor,  and  his  love  of 
truth  and  perfect  freedom  from  all  cant  or  j^edantry,  had  all 
tended  to  endear  him  to  his  brethren  of  the  Faculty,  and 
to  cause  the  deepest  regret  at  his  departure.  As  the  time 
neared  for  his  departure  upon  his  first  episcopal  tour,  he 
felt  still  more  keenly  the  sacrifice  which  he  was  making  in 
obedience  to  conscience  and  at  the  call  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 
His  home  was  never  more  charming.  His  young  and  de- 
voted wife,  by  all  that  was  beautifiil  and  elegant  in  her 
home,  by  her  prudence,  piety,  and  devotion  to  him,  her 
care  for  the  boys  by  a  former  marriage,  and  her  sweet 
young  motherhood,  had  made  his  home  as  bright  and  happy 
as  it  had  once  been  lonely  and  desolate.  And  now  for  months 
at  a  time  this  sweet  home,  so  pure,  so  attractive,  must  be  sur- 
rendered, and  he  must  go  from  it.  He  knew  that  his  own 
dear  children  needed  his  watchful  eye,  his  fatherly  care  and 
advice.  He  must  go  along  the  western  borders  in  the  Indian 
Territory,  and  wherever  duty  might  call  him.  The  methods 
of  travel  were  mostly  by  the  old  stage-coach,  rarely  by 
.•(team-boat,  still  less  frequently  by  railroad.  It  required 
tveeks  of  travel,  painful  and  cheerless,  to  go  from  one  Con- 
ference to  another.  The  time  occupied  in  travel  was  any 
thing  but  pleasant.  From  the  time  he  left  his  home  on  his 
first  tour  until  his  arrival  at  the  seat  of  his  first  Conference 
was  nearly  two  whole  weeks — weeks  without  comfort,  and 
of  constant  exposure. 


i;i>'iioi'  OF  Tin:  M.  i:.  ciukcii,  soi'Tir.  f^^ 


CHAPTER    XV. 

BlSIIOl'    J*A1NE    ON    His   JvOl'NDS. 

TT  was  on  September  6,  184(5,  tliat  r>islioi)  Paine  left  liis 
1  home,  then  in  La  Grange,  Ahibama,  on  his  iirst  round  ol* 
e})iscoi)al  duty.     He  took  the  stage  at  dark  in  Tuscunibia. 
He  was  the  only  passenger.     After  passing  Ripley,  jNIissis- 
sippi,  on  the  17th,  the  horses  ran  ofFwith  the  stage,  turned  it 
over  and  1-roke  it.     The  driver  was  caught  under  the  bro- 
ken stage  and  partially  disabled.     The  Bishop  was  unhurt. 
He  had  to  stay  in  the  swamp  alone  for  hours,  until  a  wagon 
could  be  obtained  in  which   the  journey  was  pursued  to 
Holly  Springs.     On  the  19th  he  arrived  at  Memphis,  Ten- 
nessee ;  on  the  21st  started  on  a  steam-boat  up  the  Mississip- 
pi River.     On  his  way  to  Hannibal,  the  seat  of  the  Missouri 
Conference,  he  made  as  close  observations  as  possible.     Hits 
journal  abounds  with  brief  notices  of  the  geological  forma- 
tions.    He  always  did  this.     The  high  hills,  the  limestone 
and  chert,  all  attracted  his  attention.     These  observations 
had  enabled  him  to   prophesy  the  great  mineral  wealth 
to  be  found  in  the  mountains  of  North  Alabama,  and  were 
the  means  of  his  discovering  and  calling  attention  to  the 
vast  quantities  of  coal  found  in  Illinois  and  IMissouri.     Of 
these  facts  he  tells  us  in  his  "Notes  of  Life."     The  first 
Conference  over  which  he  presided  began  its  session  in  the 
town  of  nannil)al,  IMo.,  on  the  30th  of  September,  184^. 
John  H.  Linn  was  the  stationed  preacher,  and  with  liim  he 
made  his  home.     George  W.  Rewlcy,  to  whom   in   Ihc  ab- 
sence of  a   Jiisliop   he   IkmI   given   a  ccrtiticatc  of  transfer 


86  LIFE  OF   ROBERT  PAINE,    D.D. 


from  the  Tennessee  Conference  many  years  before,  was  still 
in  connection  with  the  Western  Conference.  He  was  lying 
ill  of  consumption.  He  knew  that  his  days  were  few.  He 
was  ready  and  anxious  to  go.  The  meeting  between  these 
old  and  dear  friends  was  exceedingly  tender.  When  the 
dying  man  saw  his  old  friend,  now  a  Bishop,  it  affected  him 
deeply.  They  met  again  on  earth :  the  one  just  entering 
upon  a  new  and  untried  field  of  labor  and  usefulness,  the 
other  ready  to  exchange  labor  for  reward. 

Many  perj^lexing  legal  questions  came  up  at  this  Confer- 
ence. They  were  readily  and  correctly  decided  by  the  new 
Bishop,  who  had  been  a  godson  of  Bishop  IMcKendree,  and 
was  already  well  ve^^sed  in  ecclesiastical  law.  These  ques- 
tions originated  in  the  recent  division  of  the  Conference — 
the  St.  Louis  having  been  separated  from  the  Missouri.  He 
felt  deeply  his  responsibility.  He  prayed  most  fervently 
for  Divine  help.  He  was  quick  yet  cautious,  generous  and 
sympathetic  but  impartial  and  inflexibly  just.  Not  only  in 
the  chair  but  in  the  cabinet  did  the  Bishop  feel  most  intense- 
ly his  need  of  Divine  help.  As  he  entered  u})on  his  work,  ho 
writes  in  his  diary :  "  This  is  my  first  Conference.  Lord,  help 
me."  A  world  of  meaning  is  expressed  in  these  two  short 
sentences.  What  work  of  man  is  so  delicate  and  so  difficult 
as  that  of  determining  the  stations  of  the  preachers?  Con- 
flicting interests,  family  relations,  the  fitness  of  men  for  the 
different  conditions  of  the  work,  the  special  need  of  partic- 
ular churches,  the  absolute  necessity  for  frequent  removals, 
and  above  all  the  great  question.  How  can  the  cause  of 
God  be  best  promoted  in  this  arrangement  of  the  appoint- 
ments?— all  gave  him  the  greatest  concern.  He  was  a 
magnanimous  man.  He  was  in  deep  sym]iathy  with  tlie 
preacliers,  and  would  never  nfflict  one  if  lie  could  avoitl  it. 
He  loved  and  honored  the  Church,  nnd  desired  above  all 
its  spiritual  growth,  and  was   of  course   unwillinir  to  send 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  87 

to  any  charge  a  man  who  might  be  ratlier  a  curse  than  a 
blessing.  The  (juostion  with  him  was,  Who  is  the  right 
man  for  each  i)a:?t()ral  charge?  AVhcn  this  was  settled,  and 
it  was  found  that  without  severe  affliction  theapi)ointments 
could  all  be  made,  tlien  he  was  happy.  No  man  that  has 
filled  the  episcopal  chair  ever  felt  more  deeply  the  fear- 
ful responsibility  resting  upon  him  than  did  this  Bishop, 
through  all  the  years  of  his  episcopacy.  There  was  greater 
need  than  usual  of  the  most  consummate  prudence  in  mak- 
ing the  appointments  at  this  his -first  Conference.  It  was  a 
border  Conference ;  and  many  will  remember  that  for  years 
all  along  the  border  were  still  heard  the  dying  echoes  of  a 
most  fierce  and  terrible  ecclesiastical  war.  Prudent  men 
.were  needed  at  certain  points,or  great  grief  might  befall  the 
Church  of  Christ. 

He  joassed  through  a  fine  country  from  Hannibal  to 
Boonville.  He  continued  to  notice  the  encrinites,  pentre- 
mites,  and  other  fossils,  and  marked  the  existence  of  coal 
fr'om  St.  Louis  to  Hannibal,  Glasgow,  Boonville,  etc.  Ou 
this  route  he  traveled  by  many  different  modes  of  convey- 
ance, fi'om  a  stage-coach  to  a  skiff.  At  Boonvjlle  he  held 
the  St.  Louis  Conference,  wdiich  began  its  session  on  the  14th 
of  October  and  closed  on  the  20th.  From  this  Conference 
he  went  into  the  Indian  Territory,  He  visited  thediflEerent 
tribes.  He  learned  much  of  their  character,  and  still  moi-e 
of  their  wants.  He  w^as  among  the  Osages,  the  Wyandots, 
the  Creeks,  the  Cherokees,  etc.  He  visited  the  different 
schools  and  missions.  He  was  at  the  Baptist  mission  and 
the  Quaker  Mission  as  well  as  at  our  own.  He  had  been 
for  years  a  close  student  of  ethnology.  He  had  especially 
studied  the  origin  of  the  American  Indians,  and  had 
in  a  sharp  l)ut  friendly  controversy  with  J)r.  A.  L. 
P.  Green  opposed  the  idea  that  they  were  the  ten  lost 
tribes  of  Israel.     He  pursued  this  study  by  the  closest  ob- 


88  LIFE  OF   llOBEKT   rAIXi:,   D.D. 

servation  of  their  traditions,  festivals,  religious  rites,  lan- 
guage, and  superstitions.  He  preached  to  them  through  an 
interpreter.  He  saw  their  agents,  and  felt  how  greatly  they 
had  been  imposed  upon.  He  became  well  acquainted  with 
our  missionaries,  and  was  deeply  sensible  of  their  trials  and 
discouragements.  He  remained  in  the  Indian  Territory 
until  after  the  Indian  Mission  Conference.  The  day  he  was 
forty-nine  years  old  he  says:  "This  day  I  consecrate  myself 
wholly  to  Him  and  His  Church.  O  for  a  pure,  wise,  and 
devoted  soul,  holy  and  useful!  Indian  Mission  Conference 
began."  After  the  Conference,  of  which  his  old  Tennessee 
friend  the  Rev.  AV.  L.  McAlister  was  the  Secretary,  he 
continued  to  visit  places  in  the  Indian  Territory.  He  was 
with  the  Choctaws,  the  Creeks,  and  the  Cherokees,  and  Avit- 
nessed  the  progress  of  civilization  among  them.  During  this 
trip  he  was  greatly  exposed.  The  water-courses  were  all 
high,  and  he  had  to  cross  them  in  "dug-outs"  unskillfully 
managed  and  in  a  "tottering  condition."  Especially  was 
he  exposed  in  crossing  the  Arkansas  River,  Avhich  was  much 
swollen  and  threatened  to  capsize  the  little  canoe  whirling 
round  and  round  in  a  rapid  and  dangerous  manner.  He 
passed  by  difterent  forts  and  schools,  and  at  last  arrived  safe 
and  thankful  at  Fort  Smith,  Ark.  Here  he  met  thousands 
moving  to  Texas.  "Wagons,  wagons  were  crowded  along 
the  banks  of  the  river" — so  he -enters  it.  At  Van  Burcn 
he  met  the  Arkansas  Conference,  which  commenced  its  ses- 
sion on  November  25.  Again  his  knowledge  of  ecclesiastic- 
al law  was  tested.  Many  legal  questions  were  propounded, 
and  all  readily  answered.  The  Confci'cnce  closed  on  llie 
30th  of  November,  and  he  started  immediately  to  Little 
llock.  After  remaining  at  Little  Rock,  waiting  for  a  boat, 
he  started  down  the  river  for  home.  After  jiassing  Na])o- 
leon  a  fearful  accident  occurred.  A  flue  collapsed — the 
boiler  burst — all  was  a  scene  of  wild  confusion.     The  cr.[) 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  89 

tain  was  alarmed,  and  unable  to  command  his  crew.  One 
man  was  torn  to  pieces  and  others  hurt.  The  Bishop  took 
command,  gave  directions  to  throw  out  the  tiller-rope  and 
to  land  the  vessel.  Calm,  trustful,  strong,  he  alone  had 
the  ju'esence  of  mind  to  do  what  was  needed.  The  crew 
obeyed.  The  vessel  was  saved.  The  passengers,  too,  witli 
grateful  hearts  acknowledged  their  obligations  to  the  good 
Ijishop.  Like  St.  Paul  when  his  vessel  was  sinking,  he  took 
charge  of  the  men,  and  proved  himself  a  man  trustful  in  God, 
but  a  soul  so  much  above  the  ordinary  man  that  he  alone 
of  all  that  were  on  board  showed  ability  to  rule  in  the 
midst  of  the  most  fearful  confusion  and  in  the  presence 
of  death.  When  all  was  accomplished  that  could  be  done, 
he  wrote:  "Merciful  God,  what  a  scene!  Thank  God  it 
was  no  ^Yorse." 

I  do  not  know  that  any  incident  in  the  life  of  the  Bishop 
more  fully  exhibits  the  greatness  of  his  character  than  the 
one  thus  briefly  narrated.  His  presence  of  mind  in  the 
face  of  disaster,  his  calm  self-possession  in  the  midst  of 
unusual  confusion,  his  power  to  command  men  unknown  to 
him,  his  actually  taking  the  place  of  the  exi^erienced  but 
I'rightened  captain  and  saving  those  that  were  not  killed  by 
the  explosion — all  show  a  greatness  of  soul  rising  to  a  height 
at  once  sublime  and  rarely  reached  by  any  man.  Another 
boat  passing  soon  carried  them  to  the  jMississippi  Kiver  in 
safety.  Here  they  were  transferred  to  a  boat  bound  for  Mem- 
phis. Arriving  at  Memphis,  he  met  with  Bishop  Andrew, 
spent  some  time  with  him  in  sweet  and  holy  comnumion, 
heard  him  preach  liis  iamous  sermon  on  family  governmeni, 
and  with  a  thankful  heart  started  to  his  home  in  Aberdeen, 
]Miss.  During  his  long  tour  his  I'amily  had  removed  from 
La  Grange,  Ala.,  to  this  place,  Aberdeen.  After  passing 
over  "terrible"  roads  and  Ix^ing  upset  in  the  stage,  he  ar- 
lived  at  home  on  the  17th  of  DtcemlKr,  1840.     He  had 


90  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,  D.D. 


been  abseut  a  little  more  than  three  months.  This  was  his 
first  experience  as  a  Bishop.  He  was  happy.  A  loving 
wife  had  proved  herself  worthy  of  being  the  wife  of  a  Bish- 
op, and  welcomed  him  to  their  new  home.  It  was  a  happy 
meeting.  The  children  wei-e  so  glad  to  see  him  who  was  so 
good  and  tender  a  father,  and  whose  presence  was  such  a 
benediction  to  the  home  circle.  He  simply  writes:  "Home. 
Thank  God  ten  thousand  times!  All's  well."  In  this 
happy  home  he  had  rest.  No  man  ever  loved  home  more. 
Amid  these  loved  ones  he  was  to  some  extent  repaid  for  the 
hazards  and  self-denials  of  his  long  and  eventful  absence. 


BISHOP  OF  TIIK  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  i)l 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

Fulfilling   His  Mission. 

A  FTER  a  brief  sojourn  with  his  precious  family,  he  left 
lA.  Aberdeen  on  February  15,  1847,  to  attend  the  Texas 
and  East  Texas  Conferences.  He  went  by  Mobile,  staying 
with  his  old  friend  Col.  R.  A.  Baker,  and  baptizing  his  son, 
Alexander  Price.  He  stopped  a  day  or  two  in  New  Or- 
leans, and  was  most  cordially  entertained  in  the  family  of 
another  old  friend,  H.  R.  W.  Hill.  He  had  known  Broth- 
er Hill  in  Tennessee,  and  had  witnessed  his  powerful  con- 
version at  the  first  Conference  that  he  ever  attended  at 
Franklin,  Tenn.  On  February  26  he  left  on  a  steamer  for 
Galveston,  Texas.  He  was  terribly  seasick.  He  writes  in 
his  journal :  "  Sick,  sick.  Roughest  sea  I  ever  saw.  Had  to 
turn  back  and  put  into  Barataria  Bay.  A  miserable  day." 
He  arrived  safe,  after  this  stormy  voyage,  on  March  1 ;  was 
cordially  received  and  welcomed  by  friends  in  Galveston. 
He  remained  a  day  or  two ;  preached  on  "  Lovest  thou  me 
more  than  these?"  On  the  5th  of  March  he  left  for  the 
seat  of  the  Texas  Conference,  which  was  to  be  held  at  a  big 
school-house  in  the  neighborhood  of  his  old  fi-iends  Chappell 
and  Hargrove,  and  near  to  Brother  Bragg's.  This  })lace 
was  beyond  Houston,  and  not  far  from  the  Brazos  River. 
He  had  to  go  part  of  the  way  on  horseback,  and  to  spend 
one  night  in  a  dirty  hovel  with  hogs  and  vermin  ;  but  at  the 
Conference  he  had  a  good  time  with  his  old  friends,  and 
es]»ecially  with  such  men  as  Wliij)])!*',  Thnill,  AhxMuder, 
Fisher,  DeVilbiss,  llaynie,  llamiltoii,  and  others.  He 
greatly  enjoyed  his  visit  to  his  old  fi-iends  who  had  minis- 


92  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 

tered  to  him  so  kindly  when  he  was  a  l)oy  on  the  Tusca- 
loosa Circuit.  At  Father  Chappell's  they  showed  him  a 
coin  which  had  been  given  by  him  to  one  of  his  boys  nearly 
thirty  years  before.  It  had  been  kept  in  memory  of  the 
young  preacher  all  that  time.  On  the  16th  of  March  he 
left  his  old  friends  for  the  East  Texas  Conference,  which 
was  to  be  held  at  Clarksville,  and  was  to  begin  the  31st 
of  March.  He  had  to  go  the  entire  distance  on  horse- 
back. The  roads  were  bad,  and  the  fare  along  the  route 
still  worse.  He  was  badly  mounted.  The  trip  was  one 
of  the  most  disagreeable  of  his  life.  It  was  during  the 
Mexican  war,  and  the  country  was  much  excitd  by  false 
rumors  in  reference  to  General  Taylor  and  his  army.  He 
suffered  along  the  way  from  a  severe  attack  of  sickness ; 
but,  sick  and  sore  from  rough  roads  and  miserable  fare, 
he  traveled,  on.  Sometimes  he  was  hardly  able  to  sit 
on  his  horse,  but  there  was  no  place  at  which  he  could  ]je 
much  bettered ;  so  he  kept  in  the  saddle,  and  jogging  along 
on  a  poor  one-eyed  horse,  until  he  arrived  at  Clarksville  in 
time  for  the  Conference.  He  preached  on  the  Sabbath  of 
this  Conference  to  an  immense  congregation  in  the  Presby- 
terian church,  and  had  great  liberty.  His  text  was,  "  Occu- 
py till  I  come."  He  had  been  sick  during  all  the  Confer- 
ence. He  saw  the  great  need  of  more  preachers  in  the 
Conference.  He  felt  the  responsibility  resting  upon  the  la- 
borers whom  he  was  to  send  out  to  occupy  that  vast  territo- 
ry. Full  of  his  subject,  he  felt  that  God  was  near,  his 
Spirit  resting  upon  him,  and  he  gave  them  one  of  his  very 
best  gospel  sermons.  After  the  sermon  he  ordained  six 
deacons,  and  in  the  afternoon  five  elders.  On  the  7th  the 
Conference  closed.  He  started  again  on  horseback  and 
made  his  way  to  Shreveport,  La.,  thence  by  steam-boat  to 
New  Orleans  and  to  Molnle  and  home,  where  he  arrived  on 
the  22d  of  April.     He  had  been  absent  frojn  liome  more 


r.i^^iiop  OF  THE  M.  E.  cnuRciT,  SOUTH.  0:1 

than  two  months,  and  had  held  but  two  Conferences.  In 
less  than  one  year  he  litul  traveled  over  many  States  and 
throuirh  ditierent  Territories.  He  had  seen  sights  such  as 
even  to  his  extensive  experience  were  entirely  new.  He  had 
been  among  the  Indians,  and  traveled  extensively  through 
their  Territory.  He  had  been  by  the  battle-ground  of  8a  1- 
tillo,  and  was  at  one  time  not  far  from  the  battling  hosts  of 
Taylor  and  Santa  Ana.  He  had  at  one  time  been  lost  in 
the  deep  forests  of  Texas,  and  had  spent  nights  in  the  most 
disagreeable  and  dirty  haunts.  He  had  been  compelled  to 
travel  when  so  sick  as  hardly  able  to  sit  on  his  horse.  He 
had  witnessed  the  blowing  up  of  a  steam-boat ;  had  been 
compelled  to  take  charge  of  the  terrified  crew.  But  he  was 
agaii)  at  his  home.  He  was  made  welcome  by  the  best  of 
wives.  In  all  his  absence  she  never  uttered  one  complain- 
ing word.  God  had  called  him;  she  would  not  by  word  or 
act  discourage  him  in  his  great  mission.  He  said  to  me: 
"  Rivers,  few  persons  know  Avhat  a  wife  I  have.  She  is  the 
bravest  of  her  sex,  and  as  for  firmness  I  know  not  herecjual. 
I  do  not  see  how  I  could  do  the  work  of  a  INIethodist  Bishop 
were  it  not  for  her.  She  has  great  responsibilities,  and 
meets  them  with  a  patience  and  firmness  that  almost  puts 
me  to  the  blush."  Such  were  the  contents  of  the  "alabas- 
ter box"  W'hich  he  poured  upon  the  head  of  this  good  woman 
during  life.  I  like  this.  It  sends  forth  the  sweetest  odor. 
It  is  so  much  better  to  give  this  testimon}'  long  before  the 
burial  of  the  loved  one.  Said  a  Bishop  to  me:  "I  do  not 
wonder  that  it  is  a  great  cross  for  Bishop  Paine  to  leave 
his  home.  I  have  recently  visited  him,  and  he  certainly 
has  much  to  attract  him  there,  for  he  has  one  of  the  most 
delightful  homes  I  have  ever  visited."  It  was  to  this  most 
excellent  wife  that  home  was  indebted  for  its  sweetness,  its 
beautv,  and  its  sunshine. 


04  LIFE  OF  PtOBERT    TAIXE,   D.D. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Great  Missionary  Meeting — Terrible  Accident — "Wonder- 
ful Providence. 

ON  September  7,  1847,  he  started  on  his  second  round  of 
Conferences.  On  the  17th  he  met  Bishop  Soule  in 
Louisville,  Ky.  They  had  a  delightful  session  together. 
Bishop  Soule  revised  the  entire  work  of  the  young  Bishop, 
and  pronounced  "  the  work  all  done  right."  This  grai:ified 
Bishop  Paine,  and  caused  him  to  pen  the  ejaculation  so 
often  occurring  in  his  diary,  "Thank  God!"  From  Louis- 
ville he  went  to  Harrodsburg,  to  hold  the  Kentucky  Con- 
ference. Here  he  met  his  old  friend  Dr.  Bascom,  and  had 
the  privilege  of  hearing  Jonathan  Stamper  preach  before  he 
ordained  the  elders.  They  had  a  grand  missionary  meeting 
on  Monday  night  of  the  Conference.  Dr.  Sehon  j^reached 
on  "  Go  ye  into  all  the  world,"  etc.  The  Doctor  roused  up 
the  people,  and  after  a  short  address  from  the  Bishop  a  fine 
collection  was  taken.  During  this  collection  the  congrega- 
tion was  thrilled  by  the  following  incident.  The  Rev.  G. 
W.  Brush  came  forward  with  a  fine  gold  watch  and  chain, 
and  said :  "  This  watch  is  the  gift  of  a  much  beloved  brother 
to  his  sister.  It  was  given  by  the  brother  on  his  death-bed. 
It  has  been  prized  by  this  sister  as  a  souvenir  from  a  most 
teiiderly  loved  brother.  Bishop,  she  wants  to  give  this  watch 
and  chain  to  the  missionary  cause.  She  desires  that  it  be 
ap})ropriated  to  the  Indians.  Will  you  accept  this  from  as 
pure  a  Christian  woman  as  can  be  found  in  all  Kentucky?" 
The  gift  was  fr<nu  Mis«  Sue  Scantland,  now  Mrs.  A.  A. 


Bisiior  OF  THE  M.  E.  cnuRcri,  south.  95 

J.Iorrison,  of  Denver,  Col.  She  not  only  gave  her  beautiful 
wateli,  but  she  gave  herself  to  the  cause  of  God,  and  became 
the  devoted  wife  of  a  noble  Methodist  preacher.  More 
than  twenty  years  after  the  bestowal  of  this  gift,  in  response 
to  the  Bishop's  ajipeal,  she  and  her  devoted  husband  re- 
ceived their  appointment  to  Colorado  at  the  hands  of  this 
senior  Bishop.*  Some  one  made  Mrs.  Paine  a  life-meml)ei- 
of  the  ]Missi(mary  Society,  which  compliment  was  greatly 
appreciated  by  the  Bishop.  This  was  one  of  the  most  de- 
lightful sessions  of  an  Annual  Conference  that  he  ever  held. 
The  spirit  of  the  preachers,  the  kindness  of  friends,  the 
fervor  of  the  missionary  feeling — rising  almost  to  "white 
heat " — and  the  renewal  of  many  old  associations,  all  tended 
to  make  the  Conference  highly  enjoyable.  He  had  Bisliop 
Soule  with  him  a  part  of  the  time.  The  presence  of  that 
great  and  good  man  was  always  a  benediction  to  Bishop 
Paine.  In  a  few  days  he  set  out  for  the  Louisville  Confer- 
ence, which  was  to  be  held  at  Glasgow.  A  letter  to  Mrs. 
Paine  will  tell  much  better  than  I  can  what  happened  at 
the  beginning  of  his  journey: 

Danville,  Ky.,  Oct.  4,  1R47. 
My  Pi'ecions  Wife:  If  God  liad  not  been  here,  your  poor  husband 
would  have  been  killed  about  two  hours  after  I  wrote  you  last.  But 
He  to  whom  I  consecruteil  myself  and  Hiy  all  was  ])resent  to  preserve 
iind  rescue  me.  Let  us  be  thankful,  for  I  am  alive  in  soul  and  in 
l)()dy,  and  though  severely  bruised  and  stiff,  have  snfiered  no  serious 
injury.  These  are  the  facts:  I  wrote  to  you  from  Ilarrodslturg  on 
the  30th  of  September  that  I  intended  to  return  to  Louisville  by 
way  of  Lexington  and  Kentucky  Kiver.  So,  to  do  so  I  had  to  go  to 
Danville  that  evening  and  thence  by  stage  next  morning  to  Lexing- 
t  »n.  Brother  PL  J.  Perry,  presiding  elder  of  this  district,  drove  uj)  to 
my  room  and  offered  me  a  seat  in  his  buggy  with  liis  wife  to  come 
here.  He  lives  here,  and  the  distance  is  only  ten  miles.  I  accepted 
it,  and  he  rode  on  horseback  and  I  drove.     The  horse  was  restive, 

*  While  thp.«>e  pnges  were  goins  through  tho  pves?,  we  receivpd  the  iiUelli- 
gcnce  of  the  cJeath  of  Rev.  A.  A.  Morrison.— Ed. 


96  TJFE  OF  TtOBERT  TAIXE.  D.D. 


but  rather  unwilling  to  go  fast.  I  disliked  his  movements  from  iho 
first,  and  was  constantly  on  my  guard,  traveling  slowly  all  the  way. 
After  going  about  seven  miles,  and  just  as  I  was  turning  down  a  long 
hill,  he  suddenly  as  lightning  and  without  any  known  cause  dartetl 
forward.  I  pulled  with  all  my  might,  and  he  began  to  kick  and 
})lunge  forward.  I  found  it  impossible  to  stop  or  even  impede  his 
furious  course,  and  tried  to  turn  him  off  the  turnpike  against  a  gate, 
but  could  not.  By  the  time  we  passed  the  gate  he  was  running  his 
best  and  kicking  like  seven  devils  Avere  in  him.  He  had  already 
kicked  ofl"  the  dash  and  loot-board,  and  once  or  twice  his  feet  came 
very  near  my  face.  I  saw  that  there  was  no  hope  but  in  upsetting, 
and  getting  clear  of  him  as  soon  as  possible.  In  this  I  succeeded  by 
turning  the  buggy  over  a  large  pile  of  rocks  lying  near  the  gate. 
This  upset  us  with  a  terrible  crash  and  threw  us  on  the  turnpike 
with  tremendous  violence.  I  literally  slid  on  the  turnpike  three 
feet,  and  lay  stunned  and  apparently  dead  for  some  time.  The  first 
thinw  1  recollect  was  Sister  Perrv  standing  over  me  exclaiming, 
"  The  Bishop  is  killed,  he  is  dead ! "  But  by  degrees  I  became  con- 
scious, and  was  lifted  up  and  finally  brought  to  this  place,  where 
kind  friends  and  good  physicians  and  a  merciful  God  have  taken 
care  of  me.  I  am  this  morning  able  to  get  up,  put  on  my  clothes 
with  a  little  help,  and  write  these  lines  to  my  dear  wife.  It  was 
found  that  I  had  sufiered  greatly  in  that  awful  fall,  but  I  tell  you — 
and  you  know  I  never  deceived  you  in  all  my  life,  and  that  I  will 
not  lie — that  I  am  not  severely  hurt  anywhere.  None  of  my  bones 
are  broken,  nor  have  I  sustained  any  internal  injury.  And  as  evi- 
dence of  this,  I  shall  resume  my  journey  to  Glasgow  in  time  to  meet 
the  Conference  at  its  opening.  1  was  bruised  severely.  All  my 
side  except  my  chest  is  bruised;  in  several  places  the  skin  and  flesh 
lacerated.  My  hand,  elbow,  ankle,  wrist,  and  especially  ray  hip  and 
pelvis  bones  and  thigh,  are  badly  bruised  and  quite  sore  yet.  I  can, 
liowever,  walk  across  my  room.,  and  I  know  that  all  my  bones  are 
sound.  Thank  God !  The  doctor  has  just  examined  me,  pronounced 
me  unbroken,  and  given  me  his  final  directions.  Sister  Perry  Mav 
badly  cut  on  the  forehead  and  her  foot  hurt.  The  buggy  was  torn 
to  pieces.  I  am  in  the  midst  of  very  kind  friends  who  wait  on  mc 
with  very  great  tenderness  and  let  me  want  for  nothing.  All  day 
yesterday  and  last  night  and  to-day  I  have  been  very  happy.  I  feel 
that  I  am  the  pro})erty  of  my  God  and  his  Church,  f  love  (jod.  I 
trust  him.     He  will  take  care  of  me,  and  bring  me  to  my  loved  ones 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  97 


:i<;;iin.  lie  irill,  dan;  I  have  rcnowfil  my  ((ivonant  for  G()«l  to  live 
and  (lie.  ]\ry  \\\l'v,  my  chlldrcii,  my  loved  ones,  my  servants,  all  J 
lay  on  tlio  altar  ot"  my  (lod/aiid  dedicate  all  to  him.  My  mind  is 
peaeelnl  and  liai)i)y.  1  have  a  hiunhle  but  sure  trust  that  he  will 
keep  that  whirh  1  have  committed  to  his  care.  I  am  very  hajipy  in 
this  faith.  Yes,  here  away  from  you  all,  in  the  solitude  of  my  little 
upper  chamber,  surrounded  by  strangers,  and  frecpiently  calling  to 
mind  your  loved  laces,  I  do  feel  supremely  happy  and  resigned.  I 
shall  meet  you  here,  and  meet  you  in  heaven.  Wife,  dear  wife,  let 
us  have  more  faith  in  (lod's  word,  more  trust.  Several  persons 
have  examined  the  place  and  some  witnessed  the  accident,  and  all 
agree  that  turning  over  the  buggy  when  I  did  saved  us,  and  are  as- 
tonished that  we  were  not  killed  anyhow.  The  secret  of  it  is,  the 
Lord  protected  us.  His  divine  providence  saved  us.  To  him  alone 
be  the  praise  now  and  forever.  Keep  yourself  cheerful  and  happy. 
My  love  to  all.  Yours  forever,  K.  Paink. 

In  eiirlit  or  ten  days  after  this  accident  he  -wrote  a^rain  to 
his  excellent  wife.  He  had  been  mending  all  the  time.  He 
would  be  able  to  meet  the  Conference  at  Glasgow.  He  also 
received  many  letters  congratulating  him  and  returning 
thanks  to  the  All-Father  for  his  preserving  care.  Among 
these  letters  was  one  of  great  tenderness  from  Dr.  Bascom, 
in  which  he  recognizes  the  special  providence  in  hi&  not 
being  kille<]. 


98  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,  D.D. 


CHAPTER  XVlll. 

Legal,  Question — Tennessee  Conference. 

ON  October  9  he  left  Danville  for  Glasgow.  This,  as  the 
reader  already  knows,  was  the  anniversary  of  his  conver- 
sion. He  says :  "  This  day  thirty  years  ago  God  converted 
me.  Thank  God  I  have  never  willingly  or  wickedly  de- 
parted from  him.  O  for  more  holiness  and  usefulness!" 
Thus  was  he  at  each  return  of  this  anniversary  expressing 
his  gratitude  to  God  and  renewing  his  vows  of  consecra- 
tion. Down  to  the  last  of  his  long  and  useful  life,  this  re- 
turn of  this  anniversary  was  remembered  as  the  beginning 
of  that  life  which  had  allied  him  so  closely  to  God  and  his 
holy  cause. 

On  the  13th  of  October,  1847,  the  Louisville  Conference 
began.  The  following  question  was  settled  by  the  Bishop: 
"  William  McCullen,  a  graduate  of  Trinity  College,  Dub- 
lin, and  a  presbyter  of  the  Church  of  England,  and  of 
the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church  of  the  United  States,  for 
various  reasons  had  resolved  to  surrender  his  letters  of  or- 
ders, and  signified  it  to  Bishop  Smith,  giving  as  his  reasons: 
(1)  His  unwillingness  to  read  sermons;  (2)  His  rejection 
of  the  doctrine  of  the  divine  right  of  episcopacy;  (3)  His 
unwillingness  to  be  barred  from  communing  with  other 
orthodox  Christians.  And  intending  to  become  connected 
with  some  other  Christian  denomination,  he  delivered  his 
parchments  and  was  dismissed  by  the  Bishop  of  the  Prot- 
estant Episcopal  Church  for  the  Diocese  of  Kentucky. 
Can  he  be  received  by  us  in  orders?"  Some  of  the  preach- 
ers doubted.     The  Bishop  decided  that  he  could,  and  after 


BISIIOr  OF  THE  M.  E.  CIirKCII,  SOUTir.  99 

adniiiiistering  the  vo^vs  of  ordination  o;ave  liim  a  certificate 
of  cider's  orders  as  a  local  prcaclicr  in  the  Methodist  Epis- 
copal Church,  South. 

From  Glasgow,  Ky.,  he  jiasscd  on  hy  Nashvile,  Teini., 
to  Murfreesboro,  the  seat  of  the  Tennessee  Conference. 
This  was  his  old  Conference.  H.e  was  met  by  members 
of  his  Church  with  whom  he  had  lived  and  labored  in 
his  early  ministry.  At  the  opening  of  the  Conference 
he  said:  "I  shall  feel  free  to  hold  a  steady  rein  presid- 
ing over  this  my  old  Conference.  The  business  of  the 
Church  requires  method,  order,  harmony.  To  accomplish 
this  work  will  be  my  entire  aim.  Firmly,  and  in  the  fear 
of  God,  I  will  do  my  wdiole  duty.  Help  me."  During 
this  Conference  a  local  preacher  came  up  for  reildmission. 
Brother  K.  was  a  man  of  talents.  He  was  a  politician,  and 
was  a  powerful  man  before  the  people.  He  had  a  very 
wide  reputation,  and  he  was  recognized  as  one  of  the  most 
formidable  of  all  the  Whig  orators.  Dr.  J.  B.  McFerrin 
spoke  in  behalf  of  his  admission.  He  said:  "Mr.  President, 
Brother  K.  and  myself  are  the  poles  apart  in  politics." 
The  Bishop  interrupted  him  with  these  sharp  and  rather 
cutting  words:  "I  am  very  sorry  to  hear  you  allude  to  your 
])o]itics  on  this  floor  and  in  this  presence.  AVe  do  not  bring 
})<)litics  into  a  Southern  ]\Iethodist  Conference."  "Well, 
sir,"  replied  Dr.  McFerrin,,  "it  is  my  right  and  privilege  to 
refer  to  my  politics  anywhere  when  I  can  do  so,  as  I  do  now, 
in  the  fear  of  God  and  for  his  glory.  As  I  was  saying,  Broth- 
er K.  and  myself  do  not  belong  to  the  same  political  party. 
He  is  a  zealous  Whig ;  I  am  a  Democrat.  In  spite  of  all  this,  I 
am  for  him — separated  in  politics,  we  are  one  in  Christ.  In 
S})ite  of  violence  of  party  spirit,  we  are  one;  and  I  shall  vote 
for  him  with  both  hands  raised.  Religion,  thank  God,  is 
above  all  political  combinations,  and  this  day  shows  itself 
the  very  essence  of  love.     Still  you  nmst  know  that  Brother 


100  LIFE  OF   ROBERT  PAINE,  D.D. 

K.  must  be  worthy,  or  I  would  not  have  made  this  speech. 
Let  us  all  vote  for  him."  So  we  did,  and  Brother  K.  was 
admitted  with  but  little  opposition.  The  Bishop's  sharj) 
i-ebuke  was  not  only  parried,  but  was  made  to  subserve  the 
best  interests  of  the  political  preacher,  and  to  bring  him  into 
the  Conference. 

The  Conference  passed  pleasantly.  The  Bishop  presider 
\Yith  dignity,  and  to  the  satisfaction  of  all.  To  this  Confer- 
ence he  had  the  pleasure  of  introducing  Dr.  Wadsworth,  as 
his  successor  in  the  presidency  of"  La  Grange  College,  and 
commending  him  to  his  brethren  as  worthy  of  their  confi- 
dence and  support. 

His  speech  on  reading  out  the  appoinments  was  just 
the  kind  we  all  expected.  It  was  tender.  It  was  manly. 
It  was  episcopal.  It  blended  mildness  and  firmness,  love 
for  the  preachers  and  devotion  to  the  Church.  It  showed 
the  full  character  of  our  shepherd  as  willing  to  lead  in  all 
the  work  of  Christ.  From  Murfreesboro  he  went  by  stage 
to  Tuscumbia,  and  thence  on  to  his  home..  He  found  all 
well,  and  on  November  12  the  flowers  Avere  still  blooming. 
There  had  been  no  frost.  Health  and  happiness,  beauty 
and  innocence,  nature  and  art,  neatness  and  industry  and 
piety,  all  combined  to  make  that  home  most  delightful  to 
the  good  Bishop,  whose  labors  had  been  so  great  and  whose 
valuable  life  seemed  at  one  time  to  have  come  to  a  sudden 
and  violent  end.  But  God  had  more  use  f()r  hiui  in  his 
vineyard,  and  had  brought  him  again  to  his  own  loved 
ones  at  his  own  dear  "sweet  home."  For  all  this  he  was 
so  thankful  that  he  not  only  acknowledged  his  gratitude 
around  the  family  altar,  but  almost  tearfully  in  his  journal. 
When  he  thought  of  the  exceedingly  narrow  escape  that  he 
had  made  from  a  sudden  and  violent  death,  and  found  him- 
self again  at  his  own  dear  home  with_  all  the  blessings  of  life 
around  him,  his  gratitude  was  unbounded.     That  home,  al- 


BlSIIOr  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  60UTH.  101 


ways  so  dear  to  him,  never  seemed  so  lovely  as  now.  The 
flowers  blooming  so  late  in  the  autumn  seemed  an  omen  for 
good,  lie  always  loved  tlowers,  and  now  they  seemed  more 
attractive  than  ever.  Their  beauty  and  sweetness  added  to 
the  delights  of  his  home,  and  especially  so  as  they  had  been 
planted  and  cultivated  by  the  hand  of  his  wife,  who  could 
say  in  the  language  of  the  wife  of  another  Bishop:  "I  am 
happy  in  my  husband,  whether  absent  or  present;  but  al- 
ways happy  in  my  God,  ever  present  and  alwavs  kind  to  us 
both." 

After  spending  a  few  weeks  with  his  family,  he  left  home 
in  December  for  the  remaining  Conferences.  He  held  the 
Mississippi  at  Canton,  the  Louisiana  at  Minden,  the  Ala- 
bama at  Montgomery.  He  did  not  finish  this  short  round 
of  Conferences  until  February,  1848.  His  chief  labor  was 
performed  in  getting  from  one  Conference  to  another.  Dur- 
ing these  long  trips  overland,  and  in  all  sorts  of  convey- 
ances— from  a  stage-coach  to  a  common  road-wagon — he  suf- 
fered much;  but  uncomplainingly  and  with  determination 
to  do  his  whole  duty,  he  brooked  all  the  difficulties,  and  was 
ever  at  his  post.  He  did  not  get  back  to  his  home  until 
late  in  February.  Here  we  shall  leave  him  to  enjoy  all 
the  happiness  of  that  domestic  circle  until  he  starts  on  his 
round  (jf  duties  in  the  fall  of  1848. 


J  02  LIFE  OF   ROBERT   RAINE,   D.D. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

Duty  in  the  Midst  of  Danger. 

AFTER  holding  the  HolstoD  Conference  at  Knoxville, 
the  Tennessee  at  Clarksville,  and  the  Memphis  at  Al)- 
erdeen,  on  the  4th  of  December,  1848,  he  left  home  at  night, 
and  in  a  stage-coach,  for  the  Mississippi  Conference.  It  was 
held  at  Jackson.  The  men  of  this  Conference  were  under 
the  leadership  of  one  of  the  greatest  minds  on  this  conti- 
nent. Dr.  William  Winans,  for  native  strength  of  intellect, 
for  power  to  grasp  any  subject  presented  to  him,  for  vigor 
of  logic,  and  for  command  of  pure  Anglo-Saxon  English, 
has  not  been  surpassed  in  the  history  of  Methodism.  He 
was  an  intellectual  giant.  Then  there  was  the  godly  and 
elegant  Drake ;  the  fervid  Campbell — the  son-iil-law  of  INIar- 
tin  Enter;  the  apostolic  Jones;  the  eloquent  Charles  K. 
Marshall ;  the  venerable  and  sweet-spirited  Lane,  who  always 
reminded  me  of  Bishop  Andrew,  and  had  often  been  taken 
for  him ;  all  of  whom  met  him  with  cordiality,  and  gave  him 
generous  support.  He  met  there  his  old  friends  and  com- 
panions-in-arms,  Dr.  J.  B.McFerrin  and  Dr.  Stevenson,  from 
Nashville.  Dr.  Charles  B.  Parsons  was  there,  and  preached 
his  famous  sermon  in  which  he  compared  the  different  de- 
nominations to  the  different  cars  on  a  railroad  drawn  by 
the  same  engine  and  bound  for  the  same  port.  Dr.  Levings, 
the  great  Bible  Agent,  was  also  at  this  Conference,  advo- 
cating the  claims  of  the  Holy  Book.  During  the  Confer- 
ence alarming  reports  were  heard  of  cholera  in  New  Or- 
leans and  all  along  the  Mississippi  Eiver.  His  next  Con- 
ference was  the  Louisiana,  and  was  to  be  held  at  Baton 
Rouge,  right  in  the  cholera  region.     The  visitors  from  Ken- 


BISHOP  OF   TllK   M.   K.  ("HI  K(  11,  J^Ol'TH.  103 

tucky  ami  Tcnnosvsce  deterniined  to  return  to  their  homes. 
A  iearful  panic  prevailed.  I  ha])pene(l  just  as  this  time  to 
be  passing  down  the  Mississippi  River  with  my  family, 
bound  for  Centenary  College.  Even  the  captain  of  the 
boat  on  which  we  were  traveling  left  us  at  Natchez  and 
went  back  to  his  home  and  family  in  Paducah,  Ky.  We 
left  Paducah  with  a  large  number  of  })assengers,  but  nearly 
all  quit  the  boat  before  we  reached  Baton  Rouge.  Home 
of  the  passengers  bought  horses  and  returned  through  the 
interior  to  their  liomes  in  Reynoldsburg,  Tenn.  I  have 
seldom,  either  before  or  since  that  time,  seen  a  greater  panic 
than  existed  all  along  the  Mississippi  River.  That  there 
were  grounds  for  it,  there  could  be  no  doubt.  People  were 
leaving  New  Orleans  by  the  thousands.  The  disease  was 
very  fatal.  On  the  night  of  our  arrival  at  Jackson,  La., 
our  second  daughter,  a  sweet  and  beautiflil  little  girl  of  near 
eight  years,  was  attacked  with  the  disease,  and  after  a  few- 
short  days  we  laid  her  away  among  strangers  in  the  little 
village  cemetery  beneath  the  shade  of  the  magnolia.  The 
Bishop  heard  of  our  great  sorrow,  and  as  he  had  baptized 
her  and  always  loved  her,  he  expressed  in  few  but  tender 
words  our  sad,  sad  loss.  In  the  midst  of  this  panic,  which 
seized  all  classes,  he  writes:  "Excitement  about  cholera. 
McFerrin,  Starks,  Levings,  and  Stevenson  hesitating  about 
going  to  the  Louisiana  Conference.  I  go,  of  course.  '  Trust 
God  in  duty,'  my  motto."  He  went.  A  perplexing  case 
came  up  at  this  Conference.  It  was:  "What  is  the  status 
of  a  local  elder  whose  character  the  quarterly -meeting 
Conference  refused  to  pass?"  The  presiding  elder  had  de- 
cided that  the  ministerial  character  was  gone,  and  that  the 
elder  must  surrender  his  parchment.  He  was  sustained 
by  some  of  the  most  talented  mem])ers  of  the  Conference. 
One  said:  "By  the  refusal  of  the(]uarterly-meeting  Confer- 
ence to  pass  his  character,  his  vitality  as  a  minister  is  gone." 


104  LIFE  OF   ROBERT   PAINE,   D.D. 

Another  urged:  "The  quarterly-meeting  Conference  has 
exclusive  jurisdiction,  and  of  course  a  refusal  to  pass  the 
character  of  a  local  elder  virtually  deprives  him  of  all  his 
official  functions."  Just  at  this  juncture  the  Bishop  arose 
and  said :  "  Brethren,  I  will  not  put  the  vote.  It  did  not 
follow  from  a  refusal  to  pass  the  character  of  this  local 
elder  that  his  credentials  were  to  be  given  up,  or  that  he 
was  indefinitely  suspended.  The  presiding  elder  did  right 
t(^  examine  his  character,  moral  and  official,  but  improperly 
jumped  to  his  conclusion  in  demanding  his  credentials.  He 
should  have  called  on  the  Quarterly  Conference  to  specify 
facts ;  to  do  it  in  his  presence,  to  admonish,  reprove,  or  sus- 
pend him,  according  to  law.  If  he  had  shown  improper 
temper  or  performed  actions  improper,  the  Discipline  points 
out  the  course  and  the  law.  But  without  charge,  trial,  or 
conviction,  they  refused  to  accredit  him.  The  proceedings 
stopped  too  soon.  All  that  the  Quarterly  Conference  did 
was  an  implied  censure,  or  censure  direct,  and  does  not  nec- 
essarily work  a  forfeiture  of  his  credentials.  A  local  elder 
cannot  be  deprived  of  his  credentials  without  a  trial.  This 
brother  has  had  no  such  trial..  There  is  no  law^  for  this 
course.  He  is  still  a  local  elder."  To  this  decision  he  held 
the  Conference,  and  would  not  allow  a  brother,  without  a 
trial,  to  be  deprived  of  his  ministerial  character. 

Before  the  Conference  closed,  he  was  attacked  with  strong 
symptoms  of  cholera.  He  was  unable  to  read  out  the  ap- 
pointments. He  had  spasms,  and  suffered  so  as  to  produce 
cold,  clammy  sweats.  Many  were  dying  of  cholera.  Col. 
Croghan,  of  the  United  States  Army,  died;  and  i>thers 
were  reported  very  ill.  He  got  better,  and  although  very 
feeble,  went  on  board  a  boat  bound  for  Kew  Orleans.  At 
the  home  of  his  old  friend  H.  R.  W.  Hill  he  became  Avorse. 
Though  weak  and  suffering,  he  writes :  *"  This-  is  indeed  a 
strange  providence,  to  stop  me  here  in  the  midst  \^  daiii2:er. 


BISHOP  OF  TIIK  M.  i:.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  105 

I  do  trust  all  without  fear  to  Gcd  above.  His  will  be  done. 
Glory  be  to  God,  I  can  work  or  die  as  he  wills.  But  O 
my  wife,  little  ones, and  servants!  Must  trust  all.  I  do." 
But  God  had  other  a\  ork  for  liiiu  to  do.  After  days  of  suf- 
fering and  great  feebleness,  he  was  allowed  by  his  excellent 
physician,  Dr.  Moss,  to  leave  for  the  Alabama  Conference, 
w  hich  was  held  at  Greensboro,  Ala.,  Jan.  21st,  1849.  Here 
he  heard  of  the  death  of  Dr.  Levings  from  cholera.  He  was 
a  great  and  good  man,  and  was  in  fine  health  when  he  parted 
from  the  Bishop  after  the  adjournment  of  the  Mississippi 
Conference.  Immediately  upon  the  adjournnient  of  the 
Alabama  Conference,  the  Bishop  left  for  home  by  stage. 
He  found  all  well.  Here  again  he  enjoyed  in  the  bosom  of 
his  family  that  rest  which  he  so  greatly  needed.  He  had 
traveled  and  held  Conferences,  and  been  attacked  with  chol- 
era, and  suffered  so  much  as  to  make  him  feel  that  death 
was  not  remote.  He  never  faltered.  Do  duty,  even  if  duty 
led  to  the  grave,  was  his  great  ruling  principle.  In  accept- 
ing the  episcopal  office,  he  anticipated  labor,  self-denial,  sep- 
aration from  family  and  home ;  but  thus  far  his  sufferinors 
had  far  exceeded  his  anticipations.  Duty  alone  prevented 
him  from  laying  aside  his  robes  of  office  and  seeking  privacy, 
quiet,  and  repose.  But  ever  faithful  to  the  calls  of  duty,  to 
the  dictates  of  an  enlightened  conscience,  and  to  the  require- 
ments of  the  Church  which  he  loved  better  than  life,  he 
said  to  the  tempter,  "  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan,"  and  cried 
out  with  David,  "My  heart  is  fixed,  O  Lord,  my  heart  is 
fixed!"  Again  he  was  happy  in  the  bosom  of  his  family; 
again  he  blessed  the  Providence  that  had  given  to  him  a 
wife  who  combined  just  the  qualities  which  the  wife  of  a 
traveling  Bishop  should  have.  She  was  strong,  self-reliant, 
firm,  and  yet  gentle,  timid,  refined,  and  modest  almost  to  a 
fault.  In  his  absence  she  ruled  the  family.  At  home,  all 
yielded  to  her  wishes.     A  model  housekeeper   must  have 


106  LIFE  UF   KG  BERT   PAINE,    D.D. 

order,  neatness,  and  industry  in  her  home.  Mrs.  Paine  had 
all  this.  The  Bishop's  home  was  a  model  of  elegance  and 
refinement.  It  was  snrrounded  by  the  most  beautiful  flowers 
and  shrubbery,  tastefully  selected  and  elegantly  cultivated. 
Within,  all  was  order  and  harmony.  She  had  inherited 
her  mother's  capacity  for  governing.  She  was  like  her 
mother  in  both  strength  and  gentleness  of  character,  and 
soon  made  her  husband  feel  that  in  his  absence  all  would 
go  welL  So  while  he  left  his  home  always  with  regret,  and 
returned  to  it  with  joy,  he  suffered  no  needless  anxiety  about 
its  proper  government  while  he  was  absent. 


BlSIIor  OF  TIIK  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOITH.  107 


CHAPTER    XX. 

In  the  (Jreat  West — Keturns  Home. 

THE  different  rounds  of  Conferences  were  far  from  being 
monotonous.  If  "  variety  is  the  sj^ice  of  life,"  our  Bishop 
certainly  did  not  lack  that  element.  He  had  spice  enough 
and  to  spare.  On  the  19th  of  September,  1849,  he  left  his 
home  for  the  Missouri  Conference.  He  Avent  to  Memphis, 
Tenn.,  by  stage,  and  was  soon  on  board  a  steamer  for  St. 
Louis.  As  usual  on  a  Mississippi  River  steam-boat,  there 
were  many  different  characters  among  the  passengers. 
Gamblers,  desperate  and  vile,  greatly  annoyed  the  jiious 
Bishop  by  their  impudent  blasphemy  and  insulting  speech. 
In  the  darkness  of  the  night,  not  far  fi-om  Cairo,  the  boat 
struck  a  snag.  It  tore  through  the  state-rooms.  Some  were 
scalded,  and  many  narrowly  escaped.  The  gamblers  were 
much  alarmed,  and  broke  down  the  door  of  their  state-room. 
Another  attempted  to  jump  into  the  river,  and  was  caught 
by  the^ishop  and  his  life  saved.  The  alarm  and  disorder 
were  great.  The  boat  was  landed  on  a  sand-bar,  where  they 
passed  a  horrid  night.  In  all  the  excitement,  the  Bishop 
remained  calm  and  undismayed.  He  encouraged  and  com- 
forted the  terrified  passengers,  and  was  ready,  as  upon  a  for- 
mer occasion,  to  take  command  of  the  shattered  vessel,  and 
save,  if  possible,  both  passengers  and  crew.  This  proved 
not  to  be  necessary,  as  they  had  a  captain  equal  to  the  oc- 
casion. Without  further  accident,  he  arrived  safe  at  St. 
Louis  on  the  23d  of  September.  He  preached  in  Centenary 
Church  on  the  Sabbath  to  a  large  congregation.  His  text 
was  the  apostle's  prayer,  found  in  Ephesians,  third  chapter. 
He  had  liberty.     He  entered  into  the  spirit  of  this  wonder- 


108  LIFE   OF  ROBERT  RAINE,   D.D. 

ftil  prayer.  The  people  were  stirred.  A  deep  feeling  pre- 
vailed tliroiighout  the  large  assembly.  God  was  present. 
Good  was  done.  At  St.  Louis  was  Thomas  Capers,  brilliant, 
pious,  evangelical;  and  also  Dr.  J.  H.  Linn,  then  in  the 
vigor  of  his  young  manhood,  solid,  strong,  earnest.  He  wa» 
doing  a  great  work  then,  and  continued  in  energy,  fidelity, 
and  zeal  for  more  than  twenty-five  years  to  preach  the  gos- 
pel and  advance  the  Master's  cause  unlil  1877,  when  he 
passed  to  his  reward.  While  holding  the  Missouri  Confer- 
ence at  Fulton,  he  was  attacked  with  a  sudden  and  severe 
'  sickness.  The  attack  came  upon  him  Avhile  he  was  preach- 
ing, and  he  was  compelled  to  stop.  He  was  scarcely  able 
to  ordain  the  deacons,  and  broke  down  completely  Avhile  at- 
tempting to  ordain  the  elders.  Two  physicians  were  called 
in  and  found  his  symptoms  alarming.  His  mind  wandered. 
Fearful  dreams  and  visions  added  to  the  alarm  of  his 
friends.  He  preached  and  prayed  in  the  most  frantic  man- 
ner, and  in  the  wildest  delirium.  He  saw^  his  wife  die,  his 
house  on  fire,  and  two  of  his  children  consumed  in  the 
flames.  The  disease  was  difficult  to  subdue,  but  after  six  or 
eight  days  yielded  to  the  skill  of  his  physicians  and  a  kind 
Providence,  and  he  went  on  as  soon  as  he  was  able  to  attend 
the  St.  Louis  Conference  at  Jefferson  City.  The  Conference 
had  been  in  session  for  several  days.  He  presided  during 
the  remainder  of  the  session,  but  was  unable  to  preach. 
After  Conference,  he  sent  back  his  trunk  and  procured  a 
horse  and  a  real  Methodist  itinerant  preacher's  outfit,  sad- 
dle-bags and  all,  and  set  out  for  the  Indian  Mission  Confer- 
ence on  a  horse  w^hich  he  called  "  Gunpowder."  Feeble  as  he 
was,  he  traveled  from  twenty  to  thirty-five  miles  a  day.  At 
one  time,  weary  and  worn,  he  laid  down  on  the  grass  to  rest. 
He  writes  as  he  lay  upon  his  back:  "O  how  tired!  Lord, 
help  me  to  do  and  suffer  thy  will."  There  were  no  roads. 
He  had  to  travel  along  narrow  paths,  and  got  lost  more  than 


r.rsiior  of  tifk  si.  e.  ciirnc^ii,  soutii.  100' 


once.  At  last,  after  a  loni:  route  of  more  tlian  tliree  hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles,  he  arrived  at  a  mauj^ion  near  Tahle- 
quah,  the  seat  of  the  Conference.  He  had  been  lodijing  in 
cabins  and  hovels,  but  now  he  was  in  a  palace.  He  slept 
on  II  bedstead  which  cost  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars. 
Every  thing  was  splendid,  and  the  more  so  because  of  the 
contrast  with  the  humble  fare  which  he  had  enjoyed  during 
his  long  horseback  ride.  The  family  was  kind;  the  enter- 
tainment princely.  The  re*^  so  long  needed,  was  most  grate- 
fully enjoyed.  He  expresses  it  all  in  one  word:  "Resting." 
There  is  a  whole  volume  in  that  word.  Then  follow  two 
other  words  with  which  the  reader  is  familiar:  "Thank 
God!"  It  is  with  these  two  emphatic  words  that  he  alwavs 
expresses  his  gratitude  to  his  Heavenly  Father.  He  held 
the  Conference,  preached  to  the  Indians,  visited  the  mission- 
schools,  and  after  doing  all  the  work  of  an  evangelist  and 
of  a  Methodist  Bishop,  he  left  on  "Gunpowder"  for  the 
East  Texas  Conference,  to  be  held  at. Paris,  Tex.  Arriving 
at  Paris  in  time,  he  held  the  Conference,  made  the  mission- 
ary speech,  preached  and  ordained  deacons  and  elders.  He 
then  had  more  than  three  hundred  and  fifty  miles  to  travel 
on  horseback  to  Austin,  the  seat  of  theAVest  Texas  Confer- 
ence. On  the  way,  he  was  taken  violently  ill  with  a  con 
gestive  chill.  He  called  in  a  physician,  who  prescribecT 
"heroic"  doses  of  calomel,  blue-mass,  and  quinine.  Pie 
would  take  at  night  twenty  grains  of  calomel,  and  then  ten 
grains  of  quinine  every  few  hours  during  the  day.  Through 
bogs  and  swamps  on  he  traveled — so  sick  that  he  thought 
again  and  again  death  would  be  the  result.  He  would  have 
stopped,  but  he  had  no  place  at  which  he  could  sta)^  In 
the  saddle,  tired,  sick,  wasted,  he  traveled  on  through  the 
prairies,  over  the  hills,  across  the  streams,  until  he  arrived 
at  Austin.  Here  he  met  his  old  Alabama  friend  Rev. 
Chauncy  Richardson,  one  of  the  pioneer  educators  in  the 


110  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,  D.D. 

Republic  of  Texas.  Here  also  he  found  his  old  Tennessee 
friend  Dr.  Alexander,  whose  name  is  so  sacred  to  the  Meth- 
odists of  Texas.  There  were  others  there,  brave  and  true, 
who  gave  to  the  sick  Bishop  all  the  support  that  warm- 
hearted, zealous  INIethodist  preachers  could  give.  Still  sick, 
he  left  Austin  for  Houston,  where  he  expected  to  take  a  boat 
for  Galveston.  In  spite  of  the  big  doses  of  calomel  and 
quinine,  and  in  spite  of  the  w^ear  and  tear  of  horseback 
travel,  and  a  severe  attack  from  one  or  two  "  Northers,"  he 
arrived  at  Houston  in  December.  Here  he  took  a  boat  for 
Galveston,  and  was  soon  on  the  Gulf  for  New^  Orleans. 
Arriving  at  Mobile  on  January  1,  1850,  he  heard  from  his 
wife  for  the  first  time  since  leaving  home  in  Sej^tember. 
Amid  all  his  labors,  dangers,  sufferings,  his  heart  had  not 
l)een  gladdened  by  one  line  from  the  loved  ones  at  home — ■ 
so  uncertain  were  the  mails  in  what  we  then  called  the  Far 
West.  At  Mobile  he  learned  that  all  were  well  at  home, 
and  went  to  hold  the  Alabama  Conference  in  Columbus, 
Mississippi. 

On  the  2d  of  February,  1850,  Bishop  Paine  arrived  at 
home  after  an  absence  of  more  than  four  months.  They 
had  been  four  of  the  hardest  months  of  his  toilsome  life. 
He  had  been  in  the  saddle  quite  an  entire  month — much  of 
the  time  really  too  sick  to  be  out  of  his  house.  He  had 
traveled  on  horseback  nearly  a  thousand  miles,  and  he 
passed  through  all  without  one  rebellious  feeling,  but  with 
"Thy  will  be  done"  as  the  abiding  sentiment  of  his  apos- 
tolic heart. 


Bi>siior  OF  Tin:  m.  e.  church,  south.  Ill 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

General  Conference — Choleka —  Bascom — Excitement  in 
THE  East — Work — Bereavement. 

THE  Second  General  Conference  of  the  Methodii^t  Episco- 
pal Church,  South,  was  held  at  St.  Louis,  beginning  on 
May  1,  1850.  Bishops  Soule,  Capers,  Andrew,  and  Paine 
were  all  present.  The  Bishops'  Address  was  prepared  by 
Bishop  Andrew,  and  was  read  at  the  opening  of  the  Con- 
ference. Bishop  Paine  proposed  the  subject  of  organizing 
a  system  to  bring  local  preachers  more  into  the  work.  He 
also  urged  that  a  course  of  study  be  prescribed,  and  that 
the  "standard  for  licensing  and  ordaining  them  be  higher." 
The  Conference  was  a  brief  one.  At  an  early  period  of 
the  session  the  cholera  became  epidemic  in. St.  Louis,  and 
many  members  of  the  Conference  were  attacked  by  it. 
Bishop  Soule  was  taken  very  ill,  and  Rev.  Isaac  Boring 
died.  The  Conference  elected  Henry  B.  Bascom  Bishop, 
and,  after  attending  to  such  other  business  as  could  not  be 
postponed,  adjourned  on  May  14. 

The  Bishop  left  home  for  the  Eastern  Conferences  on  Oc- 
tober 31.  As  he  passed  through  the  Carolinas  on  his  wav 
to  Virginia,  he  found  great  excitement  prevailing  in  regard 
to  the  boundary  between  the  North  and  South  Carolina 
Conferences.  The  feeling  was  so  deeji  that  it  gave  the  Bish- 
op the  greatest  anxiety.  He  had  free  and  full  conversa- 
tions with  Dr.  Summers,  who,  from  his  residence  in  Charles- 
ton, knew  all  the  points  involved.  He  was  a  disinterested 
and  wise  counselor.  At  the  North  Carolina  Conference 
Dr.  Deems  made  a  fiery  speech,  and  Dr.  Closs  said  he 
would  fight  it  out  on  his  side  to  the  bitter  end.     He  had 


]  1  2  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 

learned  largely  of  the  merits  of  the  case  from  passing 
through  South  Carolina  and  hearing  all  that  the  preachei'S 
of  that  Conference  had  to  say  on  the  subject.  He  decided 
on  his  course.  It  did  not  meet  with,  the  approbation  of  the 
North  Carolina  presiding  elders.  He  referred  it  to  tlie 
Cmference.  Supported  by  such  men  as  Doub,  Burton,  H. 
G.  Leigh,  Bryant,  and  Carter,  his  plan  was  carried  through, 
and  peace  was  restored.  At  the  South  Carolina  Conference 
he  found  the  brethren  a  "  little  shy,"  but  soon  they  went 
with  him,  and  the  border  difficulty  ended  in  fraternal  greet- 
ings and  universal  peace.  Such  and  so  great  is  the  power 
of  a  man  in  authority  to  control  the  bitterness  of  strife  and 
to  enjoy  the  benediction  of  all  good  people,  and  of  Hira  who 
said,  "Blessed  are  the  peace-makers." 

The  Virginia  Conference  was  held  in  Richmond.  On  his 
way,  he  preached  in  the  Washington  Street  Church,  Peters- 
burg, to  an  immense  crowd  on  "  Walking  with  God."  In 
this  church  he  was  ordained  Bishop  in  May,  1846.  He 
writes:  "Thank  God,  I  hope  I  have  done  nothing  to  dis- 
grace my  office;  but  alas!  hoAV  imperfectly  have  I  filled 
it!  It  almost  killed  me  to  be  ordained,  and  I  have  found 
the  office  even  more  laborious  aiid  difficult  than  I  expected ; 
but  He  knows  I  neither  sought  nor  wanted  it,  and  I  look  to 
him  for  help  in  every  emergency.  And  blessed  be  His  holy 
name,  hitherto  He  has  helped  me."  During  this  Confer- 
ence he  enjoyed  sweet  communion  w^ith  that  noble  layman 
D'Arcy  Paul,  of  whom  he  says:  "This  is  one  of  the  best, 
wealthiest,  and  most  liberal  men  in  the  Church.  He  makes 
it  his  business  to  get  money  to  give  away,  and  he  does  give 
it  liberally."  After  the  Virginia  Conference,  he  returned 
through  the  Carolinas,  and  held  the  Georgia  Conference  at 
Savannah.  It  was  the  middle  of  January,  1851.  He  was 
extremely  anxious  to  return  home.  The  condition  of  his 
family  seemed  to  demand  it.     His  wife  was  sick,  and  he 


IJISIIOr  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  113 

felt  that  lie  ought  to  he  witli  her.  Besides,  he  himself  was 
not  well,  lie  had  sevei*al  chills,  and  was  sufiering  greatly 
with  his  head.  At  one  time  it  seemed  that  he  wi\s  horder- 
ing  on  apoplexy.  He  was  perfectly  conscious  of  his  condi- 
tion, and  felt  that  he  needed  rest.  The  Florida  Conference 
was  still  to  he  held.  He  sought,  through  Dr.  William  H. 
Ellison,  son-in-law  of  Bishop  Capers,  and  Dr.  George  F. 
Pierce,  to  secure  the  services  of  Bishop  Andrew.  But 
Bishop  Andi'ew^  could  not  go.  He  entei-s  in  his  journal: 
"Never  hated  to  go  worse;  but 't  is  duty,  and  I  go."  A 
son  had  been  born  on  January  1,  and  it  was  now  the  20th; 
and  he  would  have  been  less  or  more  than  human  not  to 
have  desired  greatly  to  see  both  mother  and  son.  But  "  't  is 
duty,  and  I  go."  He  went,  held  the  Conference,  met  Bish- 
ops Capei-s  and  Andrew  at  Macon,  Ga.,  on  his  return,  and 
arranged  with  them  the  plan  of  Conferences  and  appropria- 
tions. He  did  not  get  back  to  his  home  until  February  6. 
In  a  short  time  that  home  was  saddened  by  the  death  of 
his  eldest  son,  J/)hn  E.  Beck.  John  was  a  promising  young 
physician.  He  was  converted  while  a  student  at  Emory 
College,  Georgia.  He  was  a  consistent  Christian,  and  he 
talked  most  beautifully  on  his  death-bed.  He  had  a  vision 
of  his  mother.  She  came  to  him  in  "radiant  glory,"  and 
said  to  him:  "My  son,  prepare  to  meet  the  judgment. 
Meet  me  in  heaven."  Then,  turning  to  his  step-mother,  he 
said :  "O  ma,  you  have  been  a  dear,  good  mother  to  me.  I 
would  like  to  live,  but  I  am  not  afraid  to  die."  The  Bishoy 
had  dedicated  him  to  God  from  his  infancy,  and  was  ever 
so  hopeful  of  his  future.  He  was  a  gentleman  and  a  Chris- 
tian, and  his  death  was  most  beautiful.  His  father  was  with 
him,  and  witnessed  the  triumphs  of  that  faith  which  he 
had  been  preaching  for  more  than  the  third  of  a  century. 
After  recounting  the  circumstances  of  his  death,  he  utters 
these  expressive  words:  "O  that  I  may  meet  him  in  heaven! 
8 


114  LIFE  OF  EGBERT  FAIXE,   D.D. 

I  shall."  He  uttered  no  rebellious  word.  He  indulwd  no 
murmuring  spirit.  He  bowed  to  Him  who  doeth  all  things 
well,  meekly  praying,  "Thy  will  be  done."  His  tour  of 
Conferences,  as  he  strongly  designates  them,  began  with  the 
Western  Virginia  in  September,  1851.  He  presided  then 
at  the  Kentucky,  Louisville,  Tennessee,  Mississippi,  and 
Louisiana.  These  were  all  pleasant  sessions,  and  his  health 
was  better  than  usual.  At  the  Mississippi  Conference,  Dr. 
William  Winans  was  compelled  by  the  state  of  his  health  to 
ask  a  supernumerary  relation.  He  was  not  more  than  sixty 
years  of  age.  It  was  not,  then,  the  infirmities  of  old  age 
but  a  severe  bronchial  affection  which  made  the  request 
necessary.  He  stated  the  case  himself  to  the  Conference 
in  a  modest,  manly  way.  He  stated  his  belief  that  the 
days  of  his  efficiency  were  passed.  He  feared  that  he 
Avould  never  be  able  to  take  regular  work  again.  He 
bowed  cheerfully  to  the  will  of  God.  In  the  Mississippi 
Conference  he  had  spent  the  vigor  of  his  youth  and  the 
prime  of  his  manhood.  He  had  enjoyed  the  largest  confi- 
dence of  his  brethren,  for  which  he  was  deeply  grateful. 
He  hoped  the  Conference  could  readily  grant  a  request 
which  nothing  but  inability  to  do  full  work  could  have 
forced  him  to  make.  Saying  this,  he  left  the  Conference- 
room.  Before  putting  the  vote  as  to  granting  his  request, 
the  Bishop  said :  "  Brethren,  this  request  affects  me  greatly. 
It  pains  me  beyond  measure  to  hear  my  old  friend  declare 
his  inability  longer  to  do  effective  service.  Time  has  been 
when  William  Winans  would  have  been  gladly  welcomed 
to  any  station  in  the  Church.  He  was  capable  of  filling 
any  place.  In  intellectual  power  he  has  no  superior  in  the 
Church,  North  or  South.  He  indulges  now  in  no  murmur. 
He  is  satisfied.  He  retires  so  gracefully,  so  uncomplaining- 
ly as  to  excite  my  highest  admiration.  I  have  seen  old  men 
retire  most  ungraciously,  uttering  their  conqilaints  as  to 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.   E.  CHURCir,  SOUTH.  115 

wi\ui  of  appreciation  by  the  Church  and  their  hard  lot  in 
being  cast  off  in  old  age.  Dr.  Winans  never  appeared 
grander  than  he  does  to-day.  I  have  been  ^vith  him  in 
General  Conference  uhen  he  shone  like  the  sun  at  midday 
in  cloudless  splendor.  He  Avas  then  the  peer  of  any  man  on 
this  continent.  To-day  lie  reminds  me  of  the  setting  sun. 
He  still  shines  in  full-orbed  splendor,  his  round  of  rays 
complete.  The  light  may  not  be  so  dazzling,  but  its  mellow 
radiance  touches  the  tenderest  sensibilities,  and  assures  us 
that  when  the  clouds  of  death  shall  gather  they  will  be 
gilded  with  holy  light,  filling  us  with  the  assurance  that 
death  itself  cannot  quench  the  brightness  of  a  luminary 
which  shall  shine  forever,  nndimmed  by  the  clouds  of 
death.  Of  course  you  will  grant  the  request  of  Dr.  Wi- 
nans." The  request  was  granted  amid  as  deep  feeling  as 
was  ever  witnessed  probably  on  any  similar  occasion. 

From  the  Mississippi  Conference  he  passed  by  Centenary 
College,  and  remained  a  few  days,  blessing  the  family  of 
the  writer  with  his  presence,  his  pious  counsels,  and  his  wise, 
cheerful  Christian  conversation.  He  told  us  much  of  the 
labors  and  difficulties  of  his  office.  He  spoke  with  intense 
admiration  of  the  devoted  wife  from  whom  duty  compelled 
him  to  be  absent  so  much.  Her  firmness,  her  self-dem'al, 
her  womanly  character  so  highly  developed,  and  so  consci- 
entiously meeting  the  responsibilities  of  her  position  as  wife 
and  mother,  were  spoken  of  with  the  highest  appreciation. 
All  this  had  greatly  sustained  him  during  weeks  and 
montlis  of  absence.  He  could  trust  all  to  the  prudence, 
the  constancy,  the  decision,  and  the  deep  piety  of  a  most 
devoted  and  uncomplaining  wife. 

The  Louisiana  Conference  was  held  at  Thibodeanville. 
Without  his  knowing  it,  three  of  the  members  were  to  sit 
with  him  on  the  e})i.-c()pal  bench.  Holland  N.  JMcTyeire 
was  at  this  time  stationed,  at  the  Felicity  Street  Church, 


116  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,  D.D. 

New  Orleans,-  and  editor  of  the  New  Orleans  Christian 
Advocate.  He  was  already  making  a  deep  impression  on 
the  Conference  and  the  Church.  He  wielded  a  powerful 
pen.  His  style,  original,  terse,  strong,  and  elegant  in  sim*- 
plicity,  was  attracting  wide  attention  and  large  apprecia- 
tion. John  C.  Keener  was  among  the  most  influential 
juembers  of  the  body.  Calm,  prudent,  discriminating,  with 
a  wonderful  accuracy  in  judging  character,  a  successflil 
pastor,  and  a  capital  preacher,  he  had  done  as  much  in  ad- 
vancing Methodism  in  the  Crescent  City  as  any  one  who 
had  ever  been  sent  to  that  important  and  yet  most  difticult 
work.  Then,  he  had  Linus  Parker,  quite  a  young  man, 
but  a  rising  young  man.  And  I  believe  that  the  Bishop 
ordained  him  as  deacon  at  that  Conference.  It  is  certain 
that  he  was  ordained  by  Bishop  Paine  as  deacon,  elder,  and 
then  Bishop.  Thus  ordained  by  the  laying  on  of  hands  of 
the  same  Bishop,  he  must  have  felt  a  strange  reverence  for 
his  venerable  colleague.  A  storm  of  unusual  feeling  arose 
during  the  session  of  the  Conference.  It  originated  in  a 
debate  between  two  of  the  most  prominent  members  of  the 
Conference.  I  was  alarmed,  and  to  cut  off  debate  moved 
the  j^revious  cpiestion,  which  Brother  Keener  seconded. 
Dr.  Thweatt,  a  venerable  member,  arose  and  complimented 
the  disputants  on  the  great  light  thrown  upon  the  subject, 
but  regretted  that  the  light  was  attended  by  so  nuich  heat. 
The  Bishop  pronounced  my  motion  out  of  order.  He 
calmly  held  the  reins,  and  he  alone  seemed  perfectly  self- 
possessed.  He  knew  the  belligerents,  and  was  assured  their 
Christian  principles  would  allay  the  i:)erturbation  produced 
by  the  collision  in  debate.  By  his  prudence,  self-control, 
and  sweet  Christian  spirit,  he  soon  calmed  the  storm,  and  all 
was  peace  again.  He  showed  himself  what  he  was — a  i\[eth- 
odist  Bishop,  clothed  with  great  authority,  and  exercising  it 
for  the  glory  of  God  and  the  good  of  the  Church. 


BISHOP  OF  TIIK  M.  K.  CIIUIUII,  SOUTH.  117 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

Long  Absence — Death  Abroad  and  at  Home — Powerful 

Preaching. 

TX  1852  he  presided  over  the  Conferences  in  JMissouri,  In- 
1  dian  Territory,  Arkansas,  and  Texas.  He  left  home  in 
September,  and  did  not  get  back  until  February,  1853.  He 
had  the  company  of  Dr.  Sehon  through  a  good  portion  of 
this  trip.  The  Doctor  was  the  most  courtly  of  gentlemen, 
and  an  earnest,  zealous,  and  eloquent  preacher,  but  he  was 
not  at  all  used  to  the  hardships  of  a  pioneer  life.  The 
Bishop  enjoyed  his  company,  and  did  all  to  encourage  him. 
Horseback  riding  Avas  any  thing  but  pleasant  to  the  Doctor, 
and  he  was  not  prejDared  for  the  rough  usage  to  which  the 
Bishop  had  become  accustomed.  After  the  Indian  Mission 
Conference  they  separated,  and  the  Bishop  continued  on 
through  Arkansas  and  Texas.  At  one  of  these  Conferences 
he  was  again  taken  very  ill,  and  had  to  leave  the  chair  with 
a  severe  chill  upon  him.  He  arose  from  a  sick-bed  on  the 
Sabbath  to  ordain  deacons  and  elders.  On  one  of  these 
trips  he  was  almost  sure  to  be  sick.  This  time  he  suffered 
"  with  chills,  spasms  of  the  intercostal  muscles,  very  sore 
chest,  ribs  drawn  up  as  if  corded,  slow  pulse,"  etc.  He 
would  spend  a  night  sleepless  and  suftering,  and  travel  in 
a  road-wagon  or  cariole  all  the  next  day.  So  he  did  not 
.miss  a  Conference.  He  had  time,  too,  to  sympathize  with 
others.  While  traveling  with  Brother  AVliipple,  of  the 
Texas  Conference,  a  report  sadder  than  any  ordinary  death- 
wtiil  came  to  the  travelers  that  Brother  Whipple's  son  had 
l)een  drowned,  and  that  his  body  could  not  be  found.  He 
gave  to  his  afflicted  })rother  the  tenderest  sympathies,  and 
expressed  the  hope  that  the  report  might  be  false.     Upon 


118  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 

their  arrival  at  Bastrop,  the  seat  of  the  Conference,  they 
found  the  report  too  true.  The  fl^ther  was  overwhelmed, 
and  the  distress  was  increased  by  the  loss  of  the  body.  On 
the  first  day  of  the  Conference  the  bcdy  was  found,  and  the 
Conference  adjourned  to  attend  the  funeral  of  Wilbur  Scott 
Whipple.  The  Bishop  officiated,  and  gave  great  comfort  to 
the  family  by  his  tender  Christian  counsel  and  sweet  words 
of  consolation,  so  radiant  in  our  holy  religion.  As  he  re- 
turned to  the  laborious  duties  of  the  Conference  at  two 
o'clock  P.M.,  he  simply  wrote  in  his  diary:  "Sleep  on, 
sweet  one."  Soon  after  his  arrival  at  home,  he  was  called 
to  suffer  another  great  bereavement  in  the  death  of  his 
brother-in-law.  Dr.  Felix  Manning.  He  died,  saying: 
"Bless  the  Lord,  O  my  soul!  Glory  to  God!"  Of  this 
excellent  man  he  says:  "Dr.  George  Felix  Manning  Avas 
among  my  dearest  and  most  loved  friends.  A  noble-hearted, 
intelligent  Christian  gentleman,  with  as  much  purity,  con- 
sistency, and  magnanimity  as  any  one  I  have  ever  known. 
His  closing  scene  tender  beyond  description ;  committed  his 
family  to  me.  Glory  to  God!  he  is  safe.  I  will  join  him. 
May  God  bring  us  and  all  our  families  to  unite  in  heaven 
together  forever!  He  will."  A  deeper  Christian  experi- 
ence, a  more  thorough  resignation  to  the  Divine  will,  and  a 
holier  trust  in  Him  to  Avhom  he  had  committed  all  things, 
mark  the  Christian  character  of  Bishop  Paine  from  year  to 
year.  He  seldom  jiassed  the  anniversary  of  his  birth  with- 
out a  most  devout  recognition  of  the  Divine  poAver  and  a 
reconsecrating  of  himself  to  God.  Gratitude  fills  his  heart 
all  the  time.  Love  for  the  Church  and  the  Master's  cause 
constantly  inspires  him.  He  continually  prays  for  more 
purity  and  fervor.  He  says:  "^lethodism  is  right.  All  we 
need  is  to  dick  closer  to  it  in  doctrine  and  discipline.  I 
want  no  change.  The  neglect  of  the  General  Rules  and 
class-meetings,  family  and  private  religion,  is  cause  of  greaf 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.    E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  119 

fear,  iind  constitutes  our  greatest  fault."     His  love  for  the 
Church  continued  to  grow  ui)on  him.     He  forgot  nothing 
tiiat  concerned  its  highest  interests.     Among  his  regrets  at 
leaving  home  was  that  of  losing,  as  he  feared,  some  of  that 
influence  "vvhich  he  "svished  to  exert  upon  the  family  circle. 
Religion  in  the  family  was  the  only  hope  for  the  Church 
and  the  world.     It  was  the  salt  which  must  never  lose  its 
s:ivor.     It  was  the  light  which  must  shine  out  constantly 
and  brightly  from  Christian  homes.     Neglect  of  fam.ily  re- 
ligion he  deprecated  as  one  of  the  greatest  evils  that  could 
befall  the  Church.     In  September,  1853,  he  again  leaves 
his  family  and  home  for  the  Eastern  division  of  Conferences. 
He  resigns  home,  wife  and  children,  and  all  earthly  inter- 
ests, for  Christ's  sake  and  for  souls.     He  presided  at  the  Hol- 
ston,  Virginia,  North,  and  South  Carolina,  Georgia,  Ala- 
bama, and  Florida  Conferences.     His  health  was  better  than 
usual.     He  preached  at  every  Conference,  and  often  in  the 
intervals.     During  this  trip  he  preached  again  in  Washing- 
ton Street  Church,  Petersburg,  Va.,  in  Avhich  he  was  or- 
dained Bishop.     His  text  was:  "If  any  man  love  not  the 
Lord   Jesus   Christ,    let   him   be    anathema    maranatha." 
This  was  a  favorite  text  with  him.     In  discussing  it  he  was 
often  sublimely  eloquent.     He  delighted  to  show  the  loveli- 
ness of  the  character  of  the  Lord  Jesus.     Character-paint- 
ing was  often  a  strong  and  striking  feature  of  his  best  ser- 
mons.    To  paint  the  character  of  the  blessed  IVIaster  was  a 
part  of  his  divine  mission.     Jesus  was  lovely  in  his  inno- 
cence, in  his  benevolence,  in  his  activity,  in  his  entire  un- 
selfishness.    He  illustrated  the  condition  of  the  world  by  a 
city  wliose  water  supply  w^as  cut  off.     The  inhabitants  were 
dying  of  thirst.     Not  a  drop  of  water  in  all  the  city.     All 
alike  in  (he  palace  and  in  hovels;  tke  rich  and  the  poor 
were   suffering    untold   agonies.     Lips    were  parched   and 
tongues  without  moisture.     The  skin  was  shriveling  and  the 


120  LIFE  OF   FvOBERT   FAINE,   D.D. 

blood  itself  drying  up  for  want  of  water.  Then  lie  had  a 
benevolent  engineer,  coming  as  by  magic,  opening  the  i)ipes 
and  sending  supplies  of  cool,  limpid  water  to  every  home, 
along  every  street,  and  restoring  life  to  thousands  of  fam- 
ishing people.  The  praise  of  such  a  man  would  be  upon 
every  tongue  and  in  every  heart.  It  would  not  be  hard  to 
love  one  possessed  of  such  benevolence  and  bestowing  such 
blessings  upon  a  dying  people.  Such  was  the  character  of 
Christ.  He  found  the  world  dying  for  the  water  of  life — 
all  supplies  had  been  cut  off.  He  opened  a  fountain  pure, 
fresh,  and  inexhaustible.  He  said,  'Ho  every  one  that 
thirsteth,  come  ye  to  the  waters.'  Will  ye  not  love  him? 
Ought  he  not  to  be  loved?  Love — deep,  constant,  and  pure 
■ — is  all  he  asks  in  return.  Sooner  let  my  tongue  cleave  to 
the  roof  of  my  mouth  than  it  should  cease  to  speak  his 
praise.  Love  him?  Yes,  brethren,  I  will  love  him  with 
all  my  heart.  Join  me  in  this  love  to  the  best,  truest, 
and  most  unselfish  Friend  that  man  ever  had."  Then 
he  closed  that  sermon  with  an  appeal  such  as  I  cannc^t 
even  try  to  reproduce.  He  seemed  to  stand  upon  Sinai. 
I[is  countenance  shone  like  that  of  Moses.  His  words 
burned.  The  curse  from  God  "^vas  portrayed  with  all  the 
power  of  sacred  oratory.  He  seemed  inspired.  Munsey, 
in  his  description  of  the  lost  soul,  did  not  surpass  his  fiery 
eloquence.  God's  fearful  and  deserved  curse — blighting  all 
Ivappiness,  destroying  all  hope,  and  pouring  upon  the  ac- 
cursed ingrate  all  the  anathemas  of  a  violated  law — was  de- 
scribed in  thoughts  that  breathed  and  words  that  burned. 
When  thus  preaching,  he  seemed  a  very  apostle  of  God,  as 
he  was.  The  usual  routine  of  work  of  the  Conferences  was 
performed,  with  nothing  which  he  regarded  as  worthy  of 
special  notice  in  his  diary.  He  got  back  to  his  home  at  an 
earlier  period  than  usual,  and  was  rejoiced  to  find  all  in 
good  health  and  happy  to  welcome  him. 


lUSHOP  OF  TlIK  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  121 


CHAPTER     XXIII. 

Tjiiui)  General  Conference — New  IJi.siiors — Removal  of 
La  Grange  College. 

TN  May  1854,  the  third  General  C(Hiforence  of  the  INIeth- 
1  odist  I{!pi.scoj)al  Church,  South,  was  held  at  Columbus,  Ga. 
It  was  found  necessary  to  increase  the  number  of  Bishops 
by  the  addition  of  three  members.  George  F.  Pierce,  of 
Georgia;  Hubbard  H.  Kavanaugh,  of  Kentucky;  and  John 
Early,  of  Virginia,  were  added  to  the  Episcopal  Board.  Of 
these  the  youngest  was  George  F.  Pierce.  He  was  the  son 
of  Dr.  Lovick  Pierce,  and  a  favorite  son  of  Georgia.  He 
was  possessed  of  wonderful  magnetism.  His  eloquence  at- 
tracted large  crowds  wherever  he  went.  Of  handsome 
person,  radiant  countenance,  commanding  talents,  he  was 
doubtless  the  most  popular  man  of  his  age  in  the  Connec- 
tion. His  election  gave  universal  satisfaction.  H.  H. 
Kavanauffh  had  lono;  been  a  favorite  in  Kentucky.  On 
some  occasions  he  astounded  the  people  by  his  wonderful 
pulpit  eloquence.  He  had  a  fine  voice,  and  when  excited 
his  language  seemed  to  be  inspired  as  it  conveyed  to  en- 
tranced hearers  thoughts  at  once  original,  striking,  and 
brilliant.  His  piety  was  of  a  high  order,  and  his  fitness  for 
the  office  of  a  Bishop  lacked  but  one  element,  which  he 
never  professed  to  have.  He  had  no  special  talent  for  pre- 
siding or  conductimr  the  business  of  a  Conference.  But  his 
power  in  a  pulpit  and  his  jnire  Cliristian  life  always  made 
him  acceptable  and  popular.  John  Early  was  known  t<> 
possess  one  of  the  finest  business  minds  in  the  Clunvh.  He 
had  been  one  of  the  best  presiding  elders  in  the  Old  Domin 


122  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 

ioii.  He  could  conduct  financial  matters  well,  and  had  been 
a  successfhl  Book  Agent.  He  was  growing  old,  and  was  the 
choiceof  Virginia,  whose  people  he  had  served  half  a  century. 

In  the  fall  of  1854  Bishop  Paine  held  the  Louisville,  Ten- 
nessee, Memphis,  and  Arkansas  Conferences.  He  records 
nothing  of  special  moment  as  occuring  at  these  Conferences 
except  the  step  taken  at  the  Tennessee  Conference  to  re- 
move La  Grange  College  to  Florence,  Ala.  "The  propo- 
sition was  to  pay  all  the  debts,  erect  superior  buildings,  and 
assure  both  local  patronage  and  a  paying  endowment  of  ten 
thousand  dollars."^  Bishop  Paine  had  spent  some  of  the 
best  days  of  his  manhood  in  connection  with  this  college. 
He  had  groaned  over  it  and  labored  for  it.  He  loved  the 
m(»untain,  and  never  tired  of  the  beautiful  scenery  to  be  en- 
joyed from  its  summit.  The  proposition  was  so  liberal  that 
he  could  not  oppose  it.  Dr.  A.  L.  P.  Green  saw  at  once 
the  propriety  of  accepting  the  proposition,  and  offered  a 
resolution  instructing  the  Board  to  remove.  The  offer  was 
to  give  better  buildings,  pay  all  the  debts,  and  give  an  en- 
dowment of  about  forty  thousand  dollars,  and  to  assure  a 
local  patronage  larger  than  was  then  enjoyed  from  both 
home  and  foreign  patronage.  The  removal,  I  have  reason 
to  know,  met  with  the  cordial  approbation  of  Bishop  Paine, 
and  was  indeed  the  very  best  thing  that  could  have  been 
done.  The  college  more  than  doubled  its  patronage  in  less 
than  one  year.  It  continued  to  flourish  until  the  interne- 
cine war  broke  it  down.  It  is  now,  as  elsewhere  stated 
in  this  biography,  the  State  Normal  College  of  Alabama, 
and  is  still  doing  a  great  and  good  work  in  the  cause  of  ed- 
ucation. 

On  this  round  of  Conferences  he  passed  near  the  old 
homestead   in    Giles    countyj   Tennessee.     He   visited   the 

*Thi^was  the  note  in  his  diary.  The  offer  was  forty  thousand 
dollars. 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  K.  CnURfH,  SOUTH.  123 

graves  of  his  father  and  mother.  Alone,  with  a  train  of 
feelings  so  mingled  as  not  to  be  described,  he  knelt  and 
prayed  by  the  graves  of  those  dear  loved  ones:  "O  that  I 
may  meet  these  dear,  precious  parents  in  heaven!"  Before 
he  had  fairly  finished  his  entire  round  of  Conferences,  he 
was  shocked  by  the  sudden  death  of  his  colleague,  Bishop 
Capers.  They  had  been  life-long  friends.  Together  they 
had  worked  for  the  cause  of  the  Master  for  many  years ; 
together  they  had  taken  the  solemn  vows  of  JNIethodist 
Bishops.  He  had  long  honored  Bishop  Capers  as  being  the 
leader  in  the  great  effort  made  by  the  Southern  Methodist 
Church  to  Christianize  the  negroes.  .  He  had  always  ad- 
mired the  spotless  character  of  the  great  South  Carolinian, 
and  he  was  much  grieved  by  his  death.  A  purer,  truer 
man  than  Bishop  William  Capers  never  occupied  the  epis- 
copal office.  Educated  when  but  few  of  our  ministers  w  ere 
blessed  with  a  liberal  education ;  a  doctor  of  divinity  when 
no  other  Southern  Methodist  preacher  was  so  honored;  a 
missionary  to  the  negroes,  and  giving  them  sound  yet  simple 
Biblical  instruction  in  Sabbath-schools,  when  fierce  fanatics 
were  pouring  abuse  upon  him  for  being  connected  with 
slavery;  a  preacher  of  great  simplicity  and  purity  of  diction 
and  of  much  evangelical  poAver;  a  fervent  and  faithful  mis- 
sionary to  the  Indians  before  their  removal  west  of  the 
Mississippi  River ;  and  wathal  a  man  of  deep  piety  and  sweet 
Bpirit — Bishop  Capers  passed  away  from  us  much  lamented 
by  the  whole  Church,  and  by  no  one  more  than  by  Bishop 
Paine,  who  had  loved  and  admired  him  all  his  life. 
Through  the  influence  of  Bishop  Paine,  when  presiding  over 
La  Grange  College,  the  presidency  of  that  institution  was 
offered  to  Dr.  Capers.  He  did  not  accept  the  office,  much 
to  the  regret  of  President  Paine,  who  thought  him  better 
fitted  for  the  office  than  himself  I  mention  this  fact  to 
show  the  life-long  appreciation  of  his  colleague  by  Bishop 


.124  LIFE  OF   KOBEKT   PAIXE,    D.D. 

Paine.  Then,  they  were  consecrated  together  to  their  sacred 
office;  and  this  of  course  2)roduced  symjjathy  between  them. 
He  was  the  second  of  the  Southern  Bishops  to  be  called 
liome.  A  good  man,  "full  of  the  Holy  Ghost  and  full  of 
faith."  He  was  ready  for  the  summons.  Without  one 
shrinking  feeling,  but  with  holy  triumph,  this  Christian 
Bishop  met  the  last  enemy,  and  all  through  the  grace  of 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  In  a  few  brief  years  Bascom  and 
Capers  had  passed  away.  They  were  very  unlike.  Bas- 
com was  vehement,  Capers  was  gentle.  Bascom  was  terri- 
ble as  the  storm,  Capers  was  mild  as  the  zephyr.  Bascom 
was  a  son  of  thunder,  and  the  lightning  played  around  his 
head ;  Capers  was  as  gentle  as  a  lamb,  and  always  touched 
the  tenderest  sensibilities  of  human  nature.  Both  were 
embassadors  of  CHirist,  and  had  credentials  from  Heaven ; 
but  Bascom  commanded.  Capers  persuaded.  Bascom  often 
left  his  congregations  dazed  and  overwhelmed;  Capers  al- 
ways left  his  tender,  subdued,  melted.  The  death  of  each 
was  unexpected.  They  were  both  life -long  friends  of 
Bishop  Paine.  He  loved  them  both,  and  admired  and  ap- 
preciated them,  and  deeply  lamented  the  death  of  each  as 
of  a  brother  beloved.  Bascom  died  in  the  very  beginning 
of  his  work  in  the  episcopal  office,  and  before  he  had  devel- 
oped his  character  either  in  the  chair  or  in  the  cabinet. 
Bishop  Capers  had  been  on  his  rounds  since  1846,  and  was 
universally  regarded  as  a  polished  shaft  in  Jehovah's  quiv- 
ei".  He  may  not  have  been  as  able  as  others  in  the  interpre- 
tation of  law,  or  in  the  poAver  to  preserve  order,  but  in  all 
the  elements  of  pure  Christian  character — meekness,  trutli, 
justice,  and  purity — he  was  equal  to  the  very  best. 

Bishop  Paine's  round  of  Conferences  for  1855  embraced 
Kentucky,  Western  Virginia,  Louisville,  Tennessee,  INleni- 
phis,  and  Holston.  He  gives  no  account  of  what  occuri-cd 
at  any  of   these  Conferences.     He  simply  records  the  fact 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CIIUUCII,  SOUTH.  125 


above  stated.  I  siqipose  he  attended  all  these  Conferences 
and  presided  over  them.  It  is  certain  he  did  so  unless  pre- 
veuteil  by  sickness.  AVe  have  seen  that  \vhen  sick  and 
uorn  with  lal)or  and  travel  he  would  persist  in  doing  the 
work  assigned  him.  Tlie  work  in  the  East  was  becoming 
less  laborious,  owing  to  the  increased  facilities  for  travel. 
This  was  grateful  to  tl^  feelings  and  added  greatly  to  the 
comfort  of  the  Bisho]),  now  nearly  sixty  years  of  age. 


126  LIFE  OF   ROBKKT   PAJNE,  D.D. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

Education  in  Alabama — The  Southern  University — Prov- 
idence— Perils — Law. 

EARLY  in  the  year  1855,  Alabama  Methodism  became 
intensely  excited  on  the  subject  of  education.  The 
question  was,  Two  colleges,  or  one?  The  contest  ended  in 
the  establishment  of  two — one  located  at  Auburn,  in  East 
Alabama,  and  the  other  at  Greensboro,  in  the  western  por- 
tion of  the  State.  Bishop  Paine  was  called  to  preside  over 
the  Board  of  Trustees  of  the  Southern  University  to  be  es- 
tablished at  Greensboro.  His  love  for  the  Church,  his 
large  experience  in  the  work  of  education,  his  extensive  ac- 
quaintance Avith  the  educators  of  the  South,  his  great  cau- 
tion and  prudence,  admirably  fitted  him  to  preside  over  the 
delilfcrations  of  a  body  then  undertaking  the  grandest 
Church  enterprise  in  connection  with  education  ever  at 
that  time  begun  in  the  South.  After  the  erection  of  suit- 
able buildings,  and  the  purchase  of  libraries,  fixtures,  etc., 
needed  for  a  university  of  high  order,  it  was  found  that 
they  would  have  an  endowment  of  more  than  two  hundred 
thousand  dollars.  This  was  the  best  showing  that  had  ever 
been  made  by  Methodism  in  connection  with  her  education- 
al enterprises.  The  Board  met  for  the  first  time  on  March 
17,  1856.  It  was  composed  of  men  able,  liberal,  and  true. 
Bishop  Andrew,  far-seeing  and  trustworthy;  Dr.  Summei-s, 
learned  and  cautious ;  Dr.  Hamilton,  then  the  Nestor  of  Ala- 
bama Methodism ;  Dr.  Wadsworth,  pure,  gentle,  yet  firm  and 
experienced ;  Dr.  Mitchell,  with  a  character  stately  and  ma- 
jestic; and  Dr.  Neely,  eloquent  and  enthusiastic,  were  among 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CIIUKCII,  SOUTH.  127 


the  ministers  in  that  body.  Then  the  enterprising  and  lib- 
eral De  Yampert,  the  noble  and  statesmanlike  Baker,  the 
gii'ted  Er\\in,  were  among  the  laymen  in  that  Board,  to 
which  was  committed  this  great  educational  interest.  To 
use  a  favorite  expression  of  Dr.  Summers's,  they  deter- 
mined to  make  haste  slowly.  It  was  thought  best  not  to 
open  the  dooi-s  of  the  university  until  they  were  read  v. 
Bishop  Paine's  greatest  fear  was  that  dormitories  might  be- 
come necessary.  To  them  he  was  conscientiously  opposed, 
lie  had  seen  the  evils  resulting  from  placing  boys  in  bar- 
racks, or  dormitories,  away  from  family  influence.  God  had 
organized  the  fiimily.  Its  influence  Avas  needed  to  restrain, 
to  exalt,  to  save  young  men  and  boys  from  contracting 
low,  vicious  habits.  He  l)elieved  that  boys  at  school  should 
become  domesticated  in  refined  and  well-ordered  families. 
He  \vas  sure  that  deprived  of  the  influence  of  mothers  and 
sisters,  and  Avith  the  hand  of  no  pure,  gentle  woman  to  lead 
them,  they  would  be  in  danger  of  becoming  demoralized, 
and  of  going  astray.  So  the  dormitory  system,  as  it  was 
then  called,  was  not  adopted. 

On  his  return  home  he  went  by  Mobile,  and  taking  a 
steamer  there  started  up  the  river.  The  boat  struck  a 
snag,  and  sunk  in  less  than  twenty  miles  from  the  citv. 
Several  persons  were  drowned.  The  Bishop  says:  "Our 
escape  was  marvelous.  God  preserved  us."  He  was  but 
Slightly  hurt,  but  lost  upward  of  seven  hundred  dollars  by 
the  disaster.  He  was  a  strong  believer  in  special  provi- 
dence. In  all  the  disasters,  both  on  land  and  water,  whicli 
seemed  to  threaten  his  life,  he  universally  attributed  his 
preservation  to  Divine  Providence.  The  sinking  of  tlie. 
boat  at  night,  accompanied  by  the  loss  of  every  thing  on 
board,  and  by  the  drowning  of  several  persons,  was  certain- 
ly an  alarming  event.  It  was  wonderful  that  more  lives 
were  not  lost.     That  he  was  saved  with  but  slight  injurio 


128  LIFE  OF   ROr.FRT   FAIXE,  D.D. 

caused  him  to  bow  in  humble  gratitude  to  his  Heavenly 
Father  and  reconsecrate  himself  to  his  service. 

On  October  9,  1856,  he  left  home  on  his  fourth  tour  of 
Western  Conferences.  This  was  the  anniversary  of  his 
conversion.  "It  was  on  October  9,  1817,  God  forgave  my 
sins.  Praise  him!  It  is  a  great  cross  to  leave  home  to  be 
gone  so  long,  and  so  far  away.  I  never  desired  the  office  of 
a  Bishop,  and  but  for  love  to  Christ  would  not  be  one.  This 
is  to  be  a  hard  trip — am  almost  sick  on  it.  Came  near  dy- 
ing twice  on  this  same  trip.  I  will  go  for  Christ's  sake. 
Am  ready  to  suffer,  or  if  need  be,  to  die  on  my  work. 
Precious  ones  at  home,  farewell!  So  sweet  a  place  I  shall 
not  soon  see  again.  God  guard  us  all."  Such  was  the 
touching  entry  he  made  in  his  diary  on  his  departure  for 
this  most  laborious  tour.  He  again  passed  through  the  In- 
dian Territory,  in  company  with  his  old  friend  Dr.  E.  W. 
Sehon.  They  underwent  the  usual  hardships  and  trials. 
At  a  very  indifferent  Indian  tavern,  at  which  they  were 
compelled  to  pass  the  night.  Dr.  Sehon  became  very  anx- 
ious and  suspicious.  It  seemed  to  him  that  some  of  the 
guests  were  prowling  around  with  no  good  intentions.  He 
suggested  to  the  Bishop  that  their  lives  were  in  danger. 
The  countenances,  whisperings,  and  general  deportment  of 
these  men  certainly  foreboded  no  good.  They  would  leave 
the  house,  and  after  apparent  consultation  would  return  as 
if  bent  upon  mischief.  The  Bishop  felt  that  they  were 
really  in  the  power  of  ruffians,  but  he  remained  perfect- 
!}•  calm,  went  to  bed  and  slept  well.  The  Doctor  kept 
watch  during  the  whole  night.  In  the  morning  they 
.were  both  thankful  that  a  merciful  Providence  had 
guarded  them  fi*om  all  danger,  and  that  they  were  safe  in 
his  hands. 

From  the  Indian  Mission  Conference  they  went  over 
rough  roads,  and  by  conveyances  both  public  and  private, 


riSIIOP  OF  TIIK  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  129 


and  of  various  kinds,  to  tlie  Texas  Conference,  held  at  Wa- 
co; thence,  in  a  simihir  manner,  to  the  West  Texas  Con- 
ference, held  at  Gonzales.     After  holdinirthe  Western  Tex- 
as Conference  they  left  in  a  stage-coach  for  Kichmond,  and 
thence  by  railroad  to  Harrisburg  at  which  place  they  took 
a  steam-boat  for  Galveston.     During  this  round  of  Confer- 
ences he  had  passed  through  unusual  perils.     Just  before 
starting,  the  boat  upon  which  he  was  traveling  had  sunk, 
and  he  had  lost  over  seven  hundred  dollars.     On  the  trip 
he  had  been  robbed  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.     He 
could  truthfully  apply  to  himself  the  words  of  the  great 
Apostle  to  the  Gentiles:  "In  journeyings  often,  in  perils  of 
waters,  in  perils  of  robbers,  in  perils  by  the  heathen,  in  per- 
ils in  the  city,  in  perils  in  the  wilderness,  in  weariness  and 
painfulness,  in  watchings  often,  in  hunger  and  thirst.     Be- 
sides those  things  that  are  without,  that  which  cometh  upon 
me  daily,  the  care  of  all  the  churches."     I  do  not  desire  by 
any  means  to  exaggerate  his  dangers,  trials,  and  sufferings 
on    this   long   and   exposed   route,  but  according  to  these 
brief  entries   in   his   diary,  the   quotation  taken  from  St. 
Paul  can   be  literally  and  truly  applied  to  Bishop  Paine 
on  this  long  and  dangerous  tour.     At  the  Conferences  he 
was  always  treated  with  princely  hospitality.     The  danger 
Avas  in  passing  through  a  wild  country  from  one  Conference 
to  another.     Among  his  brethren  he  had  every  attention, 
and  wanted  for  nothing.     No  man  could  have  been  more 
thankful  than  he  was  for  the  generous  hospitality  extended 
to  him  whenever  he  met  either  ministers  or  members  of  the 
Church.     He  felt,  however,  that  he  owed  his  safety  to  the 
special  providence  of  God.     After  this  long  trip,  he  arrived 
safe,  hapi)y,  and  grateful  at  his  own  dear  home,  on  January 
22,  1857. 

In    1857,   he   held  the   I\[emphis   Conference  at  Holly 
Springs.     Here  he  was  again  taken  very  ill,  and  was  alto- 


9 


130  LIFE  OF   ROEEIIT   PAINE,  D.D. 

gether  unable  to  preach,  and  ^vas  scarcely  able  to  perf(»i m 
the  services  of  ordination.  It  is  always  an  affliction  for  the 
Bishop  to  be  unable  to  preach  at  Conference.  The  people 
expect  it,  and  few  of  our  preachers  are  willing  to  stand  in 
the  Bishop's  place  just  for  that  one  responsible  hour.  ISlany, 
of  course,  could  fill  the  office  permanently,  and  W(juld  bo 
willing  to  do  so  at  the  call  of  the  Church,  At  this  Confer- 
ence there  was  at  least  one  man  who  could  have  occupied 
the  episcopal  chair  and  filled  the  pulpit  both  with  credit 
to  himself  and  honor  to  the  Church,  and  good  to  the  peoi)le. 
That  man  was  G.  W.  D.  Harris,  of  precious  memory.  He 
was  a  man  of  rare  powers.  His  elocution  was  well-nigh 
perfect.  His  articulation  was  distinct,  his  manner  graceful, 
his  matter  deep,  sound,  and  evangelical,  and  his  appearance 
dignified  and  commanding.  Back  of  all  this  was  a  char- 
acter solid  as  granite,  and  as  pure  as  solid.  To  him  was 
committed  the  task  of  filling  the  pulpit  in  place  of  the 
Bishop.  Of  course  he  did  his  Avork  like  an  apostle,  yet  it 
was  a  disappointment  that  the  Bishop  could  not  do  his  own 
work.  He  enters  in  his  journal:  "Sorry  that  I  am  not  able 
to  do  my  duty."  At  this  Conference  some  legal  questions 
of  importance  were  decided.  Among  them,  this:  "Upon 
the  reference  by  the  preacher  of  the  trial  of  a  member  to 
the  Quarterly  Conference,  should  the  Conference  adjudicate 
the  case,  or  consider  it  with  regard  to  the  proi)riety  of  re- 
manding it?"  The  answer  of  the  Bishop  was:  "The  Con- 
stitution of  the  Church  guarantees  the  right  of  trial  and 
appeal.  The  General  Conference  cannot  take  away  that 
right,  directly  or  indirectly.  Therefore,  the  expulsion  by 
the  Quarterly  Conference  of  a  member  acquitted  by  the  so- 
ciety, as  it  cuts  off  appeal,  is  unconstitutional  and  void. 
The  Quarterly  Conference  may  advise  or  order  a  new  trial, 
but  cannot  expel,  unless  the  defendant  appeals  from  the  de- 
cision of  the  lower  court.     He  has  no  aj)peal  if  the  Quarter- 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  131 


ly  Conference  try  him  before  he  api)eal.s.  It  is  always  saf- 
est to  construe  the  hiw  so  as  not  to  conflict  witli  the  consti-  * 
tution."  I  have  given  this  decision  of  the  Bisliop  because 
it  shows  not  only  a  clear  knowledge  of  constitutional  law, 
but  because  it  shows  his  sense  of  justice  and  regard  for  char- 
acter. His  rule  was  that  no  man  could  be  expelled  from 
the  Church  without  a  trial  by  his  peers.  Whether  layman 
or  minister,  he  had  the  inalienable  right  of  trial. before  ex- 
pulsion. 

He  also  held  the  South  Carolina  Conference,  at  Char- 
lotte, North  Carolina.  He  delivered  the  missionary  ad- 
dress at  this  Conference,  and  with  great  success.  On  such 
occasions  he  was  at  times  surpassingly  grand.  He  was  so 
at  this  Conference.  As  the  result,  a  very  large  missionary 
collection  was  raised,  many  giving  fifty  dollars  apiece.  His 
eloquence  warmed  the  hearts,  melted  the  sympathies,  and 
caused  these  deep  feelings  to  manifest  themselves  in  rich 
gifts  laid  upon  God's  altar.  Thence  he  passed  into  Colum- 
bia, South  Carolina,  and  was  there  at  the  commencement  of 
the  college  over  which  his  old  friend  Dr.  A.  B.  Longstreet 
was  presiding.  The  Legislature  was  also  in  session,  and  he 
had  a  delightful  week  of  rest,  and  innocent  social  and  intel- 
lectual recreation. 

The  Georgia  Conference,  over  which  he  presided,  was_ 
held  this  year,  at  Washington,  Georgia.  Here  he  met 
Bishop  Pierce,  and  his  father,  Dr.  Lovick  Pierce,  with  both 
of  whom  he  enjoyed  himself  greatly.  He  mentions  the 
session  of  the  Conference  as  one  of  the  most  pleasant  he  had 
ever  attended. 

He  also  visited  Macon,  Georgia,  the  seat  of  the  first  col- 
lege for  young  ladies  that  was  ever  chartered.  His  oldest 
daughter  was  there,  and  had  recently  been  happily  convert- 
ed. The  visit  was  a  joyous  one  to  both.  He  rejoiced  in 
heart-felt  experimental  religion.     He  had  experienced  it, 


132  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,  D.D. 

and  always  recurred  with  joy  and  gratitude  to  his  own  con- 
version. He  v.as  a  deeply  experienced  Christian,  and  grow- 
ing more  so  as  the  years  advanced.  The  regeneration  of 
the  heart,  by  the  baptism  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  was  ever  with 
him  a  cardinal  dt)ctrine.  We  have  seen  him  in  his  early 
ministry  talking  to  mourners  and  leading  them  to  Christ. 
As  he  became  a  presiding  elder,  and  then  as  president  of  a 
college,  and  afterward  as  Bishop  of  the  Church,  he  con- 
tinued to  impress  this  divine  truth  upon  all  who  heard  him. 
He  never  felt  that  it  was  beneath  any  man  in  any  vocation 
to  seek  and  find,  and  enjoy  with  all  the  rapture  of  a  con- 
verted soul,  the  witness  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  He  never 
doubted  his  own  conversion.  He  ever  rejoiced  that  he  was 
a  sinner  saved  by  grace.  The  happy  conversion  of  his 
daughter  was  a  benediction  to  him,  and  he  records  it  with 
gratitude. 

Since  beginning  to  write  this  book,  I  have  received  a  let- 
ter from  Brother  R.  L.  Clark,  of  Verona,  Mississippi,  who 
was  led  to  Christ  in  1833,  during  the  first  great  revival  at 
La  Grange  College.  He  writes :  "  Bishop  Paine  was  the 
instrument  in  my  conversion.  He  was  instructing  me 
when  I  embraced  Christ  as  my  Saviour.  And  now  for  the 
space  of  fifty  years  he  has  been  my  wisest,  safest,  best  of 
friends  and  counselors."  Such  is  the  testimony  of  many 
living  witnesses.  Whenever  the  Bishop  was  able  to  preach, 
he  always  did  so.  During  this  tour  of  Conferences  he 
preached  on  "heart  purity  as  essential  to  the  perfection 
of  Christian  character."  He  often  chose  such  subjects  as 
"Walking  with  God,"  "Filled  with  the  fullness  of  God," 
"Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart."  This,  too,  was  a  trying 
period  of  his  life.  He  had  a  large  estate  to  manage.  To 
a  conscientious  man  as  he  was  this  brought  great  care,  as 
well  as  responsibility.  Then,  there  was  the  care  of  all  the 
churches,  the  appointments  of  the  preachers  to  their  work, 


Bisiior  OF  TiiK  M.  i:.  ("iii'Rcir,  Horiir.  133 

tlie  ecUu'tition  of  his  children,  and  fuhled  to  all  these  the 
})roper  organization  of  the  Southern  University,  at  Greens- 
boro, Alabama.  Perplexed,  tried,  cast  down  at  times,  he 
never  faltered  in  his  consecration,  never  wavered  in  his  re- 
ligious experience,  never  forgot  his  first  love,  but  was  con- 
stantly growing  in  grace  and  in  the  knowledge  of  our  Lord 
and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ. 


J34  I.II'E  OF   ItOIiEKT  PAINK,  D.I). 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

General  Conference  at  Nashville — Bishop  Soule — Epis- 
copal Tour. 

TN  May,  1858,  the  fourth  General  Conference  of  the  Meth- 
1  odist  Episcopal  Church,  South,  was  held  in  Nashville, 
Tenn.  Bishop  Soule  opened  and  organized  the  Conference. 
He  was  then  far  advanced  in  years.  He  still  maintained 
that  wonderful  dignity  of  character  which  had  marked  his 
entire  career.  He  was  a  great  man,  and  no  one  could  behold 
him  without  feeling  that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  a  great 
man.  He  had  grown  old  gracefully.  He  had  borne  with 
meekness  all  the  honors  heaped  upon  him  by  the  Church. 
He  had  also  borne  with  uncomplaining  patience,  and  with 
the  spirit  of  Christian  forgiveness,  all  the  reproaches  which 
had  fallen  upon  him  because  of  his  adherence  to  the  South- 
ern Church.  He  was  loved  and  honored  by  Southern  Meth- 
odists with  all  the  intensity  of  warm  Southern  hearts.  He 
gave  his  ready  consent  to  the  removal  of  the  rule  from  the 
Discipline  in  reference  to  slavery,  holding  that  the  entire 
question  should  be  relegated  to  the  State. 

In  the  fall  of  1858  Bishop  Paine  again  started  on  his 
episcopal  tour.  He  first  held  the  jNIemphis  Conference  at 
Trenton,  Tenn.  On  his  way  he  paid  a  visit  to  his  brother 
Constantine.  He  had  much  serious  religious  conversation 
with  his  brother,  whom  he  found  in  a  cold,  backslidden  con- 
dition. This  gave  him  very  great  concern.  He  felt  during 
these  repeated  conversations  that  his  brother  was  about  to 
begin  religious  life  in  earnest.  A  fervent,  humble  prayer 
was  offered :  "  O  that  he  may ! " 

He  left  with  the  assurance  that  his  visit  had  been  of  great 


KISIlOi*   OF   Tin:   M.   K.  CIUIKH,  SOl'TIL  135 


spiritual  honefit  to  him.     At  Trenton,  Tenn.,  he  had  a  de- 
lightful time  with  old  friends  from  Murfreesboro,  who  had 
known    him  in   their   ehildhodd,  and   whose   parents  had 
been  members  of  his  Church  durim:-  his  early  ministry.     It 
was  always  a  deliLcht  to  him  to  revive  these  pleasant  recollec- 
tions and  renew  the  friendshijis  of  other  years.     He  preached 
several  times  on  his  way  to  Conference,  and  dedicated  one 
or  two  churches.     At  the  Conference  he  preached  on  Christ 
able  to  save  to  the  uttermost.     This  was  a  favorite  theme 
with  him.     The  atonement  was  to  him  a  cardinal  doctrine 
of  the  Holy  Scriptures.     Christ  was  the  Lamb  slain.     His 
sulferings  were  vicarious.     He  tasted  death  for  every  man. 
His  sufferings  and  death  w^ere  not  mere  expressions  of  God's 
love  to  a  world  lying  in  wickedness.     They  were  much  more. 
They  expressed  law  and  justice,  and  met  all  the  requirements 
of  the  divine  government,  so  that  God  could  be  just  and 
yet  justify  the  ungodly.     He  never  left  Wesleyan  Method- 
ism.    His  love  of  originality  never  caused  him  to  forsake 
the  old  paths.     He  was  neither  Calvinist  nor  Pelagian,  but 
an  Arminian,  and  held  to  the  doctrine  of  the  atonement  as 
tauiiht  by  Richard  Watson  and  other  great  standards  of 
Methodist  theology. 

From  Trenton  he  went  to  the  Alabama  Conference,  at 
which  he  stationed  two  hundred  preachers.  Again  he  wa.s 
suffering  with  sick  headache,  and  unable  to  preach.  Dr. 
Thomas  O.  Sunmiers  filled  his  place  in  the  pulpit.  No 
purer  man  has  lived  in  this  century  than  Thomas  O. 
Summers.  He  was  learned,  earnest,  instructive,  logical, 
and  evangelical  as  a  preacher,  and  fit  to  fill  any  pulpit, 
and  always  ready  to  do  the  Master's  work.  "  Honestly  and 
patiently"  the  Bishop  made  the  appointments,  and  gave 
(rcneral  satisfaction.  During  this  round  the  organization 
of  the  Southern  University  was  completed.  An  able  Fac- 
ulty was  elected.     Dr.  AVilliam  M.  Wightman  was  made 


13G  LIFE  OF   ROBERT   PAINE,  D.D. 

Chancellor.  A  course  of  study  was  adopted  similar  to  that 
required  io  the  University  of  Virginia.  In  all  this  the 
Board  of  Trust  was  greatly  assisted  by  the  wise  counsels 
and  large  experience  of  Bishop  Paine,  who  presided  over 
their  deliberations.  At  Woodville,  Miss.,  he  held  the  Mis- 
sissippi Conference,  and  soon  after  opened  the  Louisiana 
Conference  at  New  Orleans.  At  this  Conference  he  met 
with  his  old  and  long-tried  friend  the  Rev.  Alexander  Sale. 
It  was  a  joy  to  them  both.  For  more  than  sixteen  years 
they  had  worked  together  for  the  cause  of  education  at  La 
Grange  College — the  Bishop  being  President  and  Brother 
Sale  one  of  the  Board  of  Trust. 

In  Virginia,  as  circuit  preacher  and  presiding  elder,  the 
Bev.  Alexander  Sale  hq,d  served  the  Church  with  great 
ability.  So  he  had  in  Tennessee  and  Alabama.  He  was 
now  old  and  gray-headed,  but  still  erect,  stately,  and  strong. 
He  had  married  the  Bishop  to  his  last  wife,  and  had  been 
with  him  in  joy  and  in  sorrow.  He  was  the  father  of  Bishop 
Linus  Parker's  first  wife,  and  was  always  worthy  to  be  the 
companion  and  counselor  of  Bishops.  They  met  at  that 
Conference  for  the  last  time  on  earth.  *  They  have  met 
again  amid  the  assembly  of  God's  saints  in  heaven. 

Bishop  Paine  returned  home  from  his  round  of  Confer- 
ences in  time  to  enjoy  watch-night  meeting  at  the  church 
in  Aberdeen,  his  own  home.  After  a  talk  suited  to  such 
an  occasion,  he,  with  his  brethren,  closed  the  old  year  1858 
and  entered  upon  the  new  year  on  his  knees.  It  had  been 
forty-one  years  since  his  happy  conversion  and  his  entrance 
upon  the  ministry.  His  consecration  to  God  had  been  re- 
n(!wed  a  thousand  times.  It  was  again,  most  solemnly — in 
view  of  the  past  and  the  future,  and  in  union  with  mend)ers 
of  his  own  family  and  his  people  in  Aberdeen — renewed  just 
as  one  year  passed  out  and  another  was  ushered  in. 

Soon  after  this  he  stood  by  the  bedside  of  his  old  friend 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  137 

Thomas  Brandon  as  he  was  dying.  ITc  saw  him  as'he  gave 
the  hist  kiss  of  ailection  to  his  wife  and  children.  Although 
he  could  not  articulate  distinctly,  he  gave  sufficient  testi- 
mony that  all  was  well,  and  that  he  was  trusting  Him  whom 
he  had  served  so  long.  The  Bishop  had  known  him  at 
lluntsville,  Ala.,  for  many  years.  He  buried  him  and 
l)rcached  his  fiiueral-sermou. 

In  June  he  attended  the  commencement  exercises  of  the 
"Wesleyan  College,  at  Macon,  Ga.,  and  had  the  pleasure  of 
witnessing  the  graduati(m  of  his  oldest  daughter,  Sarah  Fe- 
lix. As  his  children  were  'growing  up,  he  felt  more  and 
more  the  necessity  of  religion  at  home.  Religious  training 
more  than  ever  seemed  to  take  hold  of  his  feelino-s.  Sarah 
had  been  converted  while  at  college.  Robeit  was  quite  a 
youth,  and  though  bright  and  promising,  v^as  not  yet  a 
Christian.  The  time  for  his  Western  tour  of  Conferences 
was  approaching.  Rol)ert  was  to  go  with  him.  The  heart 
of  the  father  was  made  glad  by  the  happy  conversion  of  his 
sou  during  that  same  tour.  The  son  has  remained  faithful, 
and  was  a  lay  delegate  to  our  last  General  Conference  in 
1882,  which  was  held  in  Nashville,  Tenn. ;  and  there  and 
then  the  sad  scene  was  witnessed  when  the  dear  old  Bishoj), 
worn  down  by  labors  and  disease,  asked  to  be  relieved  from 
active  duty. 

At  the  Indian  Mission  Conference  he  preached  the  funer- 
al-sermon of  his  old  Tennessee  friend  the  Rev.  Wilson  L. 
IMcAlister.  Together  they  had  fought  the  good  fight  of 
faith  many  years  before.  They  had  loved  each  other  long 
and  tenderly.  For  twenty  years  Brother  McAlister  had 
been  a  missionary  to  the  Indians.  He  was  a  man  of  great 
j)urity  of  character  and  of  high  order  of  talents.  The 
Bishop's  text  was,  "Every  man  that  hath  this  hope  in  hiiL 
purifieth  himself,  even  as  he  is  pure"  (1  John  iii.  8).  His 
object  was  to  show  the  purifying  power  of  the  Christian 


IhS  LIFE  OF   KOliEKT   PAINE,  D.D. 


hope  as  it  was  manifested  in  the  life  and  character  of  Wil- 
son L.  McAlister.  He  says  of  him:  "Pare,  lovely,  useful^ 
Purity  of  heart  had  long  been  a  favorite  doctrine  of  the 
Bishop.  It  was  becoming  more  and  more  so.  During  this 
trip  to  the  five  Western  Conferences  he  preached  twenty-one 
times,  and  often  with  great  liberty.  He  received  such  bap- 
tisms of  the  Holy  Spirit  as  caused  his  heart  to  rejoice  with 
unspeakable  joy.  He  was  happy  in  the  enjoyment  of  a  })ure 
religion.  He  does  not  hesitate  to  record  in  his  journal  these 
manifestations  of  the  love  of  God  and  the  joy  which  filled 
iiis  soul.  It  has  often  been  said  that  the  Bishop's  preaching 
lacked  the  subjective  element.  He  did  not  often  speak  of 
himself  in  the  pulpit.  This  fact  led  some  to  believe  that 
lie  did  not  enjoy  that  d^ep  experience  and  sweet  commun- 
is »n  with  God  which  are  very  apparent  in  his  diary.  The 
diary  was  intended  for  his  own  eye.  He  did  not  expect  it 
t<3  be  read  by  others.  It  is  full  of  religious  emotion.  A 
constant  cry  for  a  deeper  work  of  grace,  accompanied  by 
thanksgiving,  is  found  permeating  these  brief  life-notes. 
"  Praise  him — yes,  praise  him !  I  am  happy.  Living  or  dying, 
I  am  the  Lord's!"  Such  passages  as  these  show  that  joy 
and  i)eace  were  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit  in  his  own  heart. 
These  transporting  feelings  sometimes  bore  him  beyond 
himself  in  the  pulpit,  and  caused  him  to  give  a  shout  of 
triumph.  I  remember  once  to  have  heard  him  at  an  An- 
nual Conference  thrill  an  immense  congregation  by  a  burst 
of  praise.  He  had  occasion  to  quote  the  song  of  the  angels 
at  the  birth  of  Christ,  "  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,"  etc. 
"  Brethren,"  said  he, "  I  have  often  hoard  that  song.  I  have 
heard  it  as  coming  from  angel  songsters,  as  it  floated  over 
the  vine-clad  hills  of  Palestine,  and  along  the  shores  of  her 
^vinding  streams,  and  up  her  mountain  slopes,  and  down  lier 
fci'tile  valleys.  I  have  heard  it  sung  by  the  young  convert 
as  with  streaming  eyts  and  countenance  all  aglow  he  for  the 


BISHOI*  OF  THE  M.  E.  CIirKCir,  SOUTH.  139 

first  time  ^ave  <!:l()ry  to  God.  I  have  heard  it  from  the  old 
soldier  of  the  eross,  who  alter  «i:aiiiiiig  some  signal  victory 
over  the  foe  gave  vent  to  his  feelings  in  a  shout  of  praise. 
I  have  heard  it  from  the  dying  Christian,  as  the  clouds  of 
death  were  gilded  with  celestial  light  and  he  seemed  to  look 
through  the  o])en  doors  and  into  the  eternal  city.  Yes, 
brethren,  I  have  heard  it  from  hundreds  at  one  time  as 
they  joined  in  hearty  chorus,  giving  glory  to  God.  And 
however  and  whenever  I  have  heard  it,  whether  from  anirels 
or  from  happy  Christians,  young  or  old,  living  or  dying,  I 
have  said,  I  '11  join  them,  I  '11  join  them.  'Glory  to  God  in 
the  highest,  anil  on  earth  ^leace,  good-will  toward  men!'" 
Then  it  was  his  lips  seemed  touched  "with  a  live  coal  from 
off  the  altar."  His  fine  face  was  in  a  glow  of  excitement. 
The  immense  congregation,  composed  largely  of  Methodist 
preachers,  was  deeply  moved,  and,  "Amen !  I  '11  join  them," 
came  up  in  tremulous,  joyous  tones  from  scores  of  liap})y 
listeners. 


140  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Watch-night — John  Hersey — Buchanan — Interestinq 
Visit — Threatenings  of  War. 

AFTER  his  long  AVestern  tour  of  1859,  he  arrived  at  his 
home  in  time  to  enjoy  another  watch-night.  He  says: 
"  Thank  God  for  the  last  year !  So  many  ble.ssings  of  provi- 
dence and  grace.  I  am  the  Lord's,  and  all  mine  is  his. 
My  covenant  of  consecration,  full  and  perpetual,  I  renew. 
Amen."  In  this  manner  he  was  constantly  renewing  his 
consecration  to  God.  "All  mine  is  his."  Could  a  conse- 
cration be  more  thorough  ?  With  'this  vow  upon  him,  he 
entered  upon  the  year  1860. 

Early  in  January  he  was  visited  by  his  old  friend  the 
Rev.  John  Hersey,  who  was  a  man  of  singular  piety.  He 
was  a  radical  on  the  subject  of  dress,  as  also  on  the  duties 
of  fasting.  When  Robert  Paine  was  quite  a  youth,  he  be- 
came acquainted  with  this  remarkable  man.  He  induced 
him  to  fast  twice  in  the  week  when  he  was  performing  full 
work  on  a  circuit  extending  over  several  thousand  square 
miles.  It  greatly  affected  his  health,  and  had  it  been  per- 
sisted in,  w^ould  probably  have  caused  his  death.  John 
Hersey  was,  however,  a  good  man.  He  spent  years  as  a 
missionary  in  Africa,  and  was  ever  ready  to  do  or  to  suffer 
for  the  Master's  cause.  More  than  forty  years  had  passed 
since  their  last  meeting.  The  Bishop  gave  him  a  cordial 
welcome  to  his  own  elegant  home,  and  was  glad  to  hear  him 
deliver  sermon  after  sermon  in  the  church  at  Aberdeen. 
He  enjoyed  the  visit  of  this  remarkable  man,  and  wrote  an 
interesting  account  of  it  which  was  published  in  one  of  our 
Southern  papers.     He  left  home  in  October  for  the  Holstou 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CIirRril,  SOUTH.  141 


Conference.  He  stopped  at  Knoxville  tuul  preached  to  a 
large,  attentive,  and  serious  congregation.  The  Conference 
was  held  at  x\sheville,  ^vhere  he  met  Dr.  H.  N.  McTyeire 
and  heard  him  preach  an  impressive  sermon  prior  to  the 
ordination  of  elders  at  3  o'clock  p.m.  on  the  Sabbath. 
The  Bishop  had  preached  in  the  forenoon  on  "  Occupy  till 
I  come."  A  trial  of  one  of  the  first  ministers  gave  the 
Bishop  great  trouble.  Such  trials  ahvays  affected  him  very 
much.  His  love  for  the  Church  caused  him  to  feel  the 
deepest  anxiety  in  regard  to  the  result  of  the  trial  of  a 
brother  minister.  He  always  felt  the  deep  need  of  a  pure 
ministry  and  of  a  holy  Church.  In  a  trial  of  the  promi- 
nent member  of  the  Holston  Conference,  he  was  rejoiced 
that  the  minister  was  cleared  by  a  vote  almost  unanimous, 
and  that  the  Church  would  not  be  injured. 

He  arrived  at  home  in  time  to  witness  the  death  of  one 
of  his  most  precious  friends,  Mrs.  George  Phelan,  the  wife 
of  Senator  Phelan,  and  sister  of  Mrs.  Governor  Ed.  O'Neal, 
of  Alabama.  She  died  right,  as  she  had  lived  right.  She 
was  the  granddaughter  of  old  Father  Moore,  of  Huntsville, 
Ala.,  at  the  time  of  his  death  the  oldest  :Methodist  minister 
on  this  continent;  The  Bishop  and  his  family  loved  her 
much,  and  deeply  mourned  her  death.  He  had  known  her 
from  childhood,  and  always  recognized  her  as  one  of  the 
best  of  Christian  women.  The  country  was  at  this  time  in 
the  greatest  excitement  of  its  political  history.  He  enters 
in  his  journal:  "Lincoln  will  be  elected  to-morrow  President 

of  the  United  States,  and  then 1  fear  the  dissolution 

of  the  Union."  Innnediately  after  t\\Q  Presidential  elec- 
tion, he  held  the  Virginia  Conference  and  visited  Washing- 
ton City.  He  was  the  guest  of  Secretary  Floyd,  a  member 
of  Mr.- Buchanan's  cabinet.  Of  his  visit  to  President  Buch- 
anan he  says : 

'*In  filling  my  appointments  of  'episcopal  visitation,'  I 


142  LIFE   OF   ROBEKT   FAINE,   D.D. 

was  to  preside  at  the  Yirgiiiia  Conference  in  Alexandria, 
beginning  Wednesday,  Xov.  21,  1860.  Arriving  at  Wash- 
ington City  several  days  in  advance  of  that  date,  and  while 
dining,  by  invitation,  at  Governor  Floyd's,  a  note  was  re- 
ceived fi'om  President  Buchanan  requesting  him  to  bring 
jne  with  him  to  the  White  House  that  evening.  Governor 
Floyd  was  then  Secretary  of  War,  and  ^Ir.  Lincoln  had 
l)een  elected  President,  but  not  inauglirated.  Soon  after 
supper,  at  which  the  late  Bishop  (then  Dr.)  Doggett,  stationed 
in  the  city,  was  also  present,  the  Governor  and  myself  went 
to  see  Mr.  Buchanan.  Not  having  finished  his  tea,  he  in- 
sisted that,  as  there  was  no  other  company  present,  we  should 
go  with  him  into  the  dining-room.  He  soon  introduced  the 
subject  of  the  threatened  'secession' — saying,  in  substance, 
that  he  had  learned  through  his  Secretary  of  War  that  1 
was  a  Southern  Methodist  Bishop  upon  a  tour  of  official 
duty  through  the  Southern  States,  and  resided  in  Missis- 
sippi; that  he  would  like  to  know  what  are  really  the  fiicts 
as  to  the  public  sentiment  in  the  South.  '  What  will  the 
Southern  States  do?  Will  they  follow^  South  Carolina  if 
she  goes  out?  or  will  they  likely  split  upon  the  question? 
And  what  about  South  Carolina?  can  any  thing  be  done  to 
prevent  rash  action  on  her  part?'  He  wished  to  learn 
from  a  candid  and  reliable  man  who  loves  his  country  a 
fair  statement  of  his  views  on  these  points.  In  reply,  I  ob- 
served that,  as  regarded  myself,  as  I  was  never  a  politician, 
hav'ing  studiously  avoided  partisan  excitement — insomuch 
that  for  thirty  years  past  I  had  not  voted  for  a  President, 
in  order  to  give  an  example  to  younger  ministers,  and  thus 
to  reserve  my  influence  for  moral  and  religious  ends — I  might 
not  be  good  authority  upon  the  political  questions  now  so 
seriously  endangering  the  harmony  of  the  Union ;  that  my 
opinion  as  to  what  the  South  would  do  was  not  formed  })y 
personal  intercoui-se  while   on   my  Conference   visitations 


lusiiop  OK  Tiir:  M.*!-;.  cinKrir,  soiTir.  148 


(luring  the  year,  as  I  had  attended  but  one,  and  that  was  the 
Holston  held  at  Asheville,  N.  C-.,  where  I  liad  always  un- 
derstood politieal  |)arties  were  generally  about  e(jually  d.- 
vided ;  but  how  tliey  stood  on  that  question  I  knew  not — had 
not  incjuired.  In  faet,  all  I  knew  was  from  the  public  press 
and  casual  talk  while  traveling.  It  afforded  an  opportunity, 
which  was  gladly  embraced,  of  saying  that  while  we  })reael.- 
ers  claimed,  as  citizens,  all  the  rights  and  innnunities  (  f 
freemen,  we  had  adopted  the  principles  of  discouraging  and 
opposing  the  introduction  and  discussion  of  all  purely  po- 
litical questions  in  our  Conferences  and  pulpits;  and  that 
this  was  so  well  understood  and  apj^roved  by  our  preachers 
that  since  the  organization  of  the  Southern  Church  I  had 
witnessed  no  attempt  to  violate  it.  But  as  he  seemed  di'- 
sirous  to  know^  my  opinion,  I  frankly  told  him  that  since  I 
left  my  home  in  Mississippi  I  had  learned  that  the  Legis- 
lature had  been  called,  and  with  a  view  to  a  convention, 
which  I  presumed  would  likely  take  action  upon  the  ques- 
tion of  secession ;  and  I  apprehended  that  she  and  the  other 
Southern  States  would  likely  follow  South  Carolina.  He 
seemed  greatly  troubled — would  sip  his  tea,  get  up  and 
walk  about  the  room,  and  again  take  his  seat,  and  presently 
resume  the  walk.  He  evidently  felt  distressed ;  regarded  it 
as  wrong — wrong  to  him  personally  as  a  Democrat  and 
ever  a  friend  to  the  South,  and  involving  principles  and  re- 
sults extremely  dangerous;  results  no  one  could  fully  fore- 
tell. 1  sympathized  with  him.  Upon  his  alluding  to  the 
evils  of  division  and  the  probability  of  a  civil  war,  I  re- 
minded him  that  some  thought  that  from  what  he  had  pub- 
lished he  held  the  opinion  that  the  United  States  troops 
could  not  be  legally  employed  against  a  sovereign  State  in 
si(eh  a  ccu?e.  There  was  a  pause,  and  the  Secretary  replied : 
*We  have  carefully  looked  into  that  question,  and  have  not 
found  the  authority  to  do  so.'     The  President,  I  believe, 


144  LIFE  OF   ROBlfRT  PAINE,   D.D. 

made  no  direct  reply,  simply  remarking:  'When  the  pas- 
sions of  men  are  aroused,  there  is  no  telling  where  the 
thing  will  end.'  The  subject  was  dropped  as  to  that  point. 
He,  however,  appeared  anxious  to  prolong  the  conversation, 
and  to  get  my  views  as  to  the  dangers  ahead,  and  as  to  the 
best  way  to  prevent  an  outbreak.  I  candidly  told  him  that 
I  feared  a  conflict  might  occur,  without  design  of  either  the 
State  of  South  Carolina  or  the  United  States,  at  Charleston ; 
and  that  probably  by  prudence  and  forbearance  for  awhile 
feelings  would  calm  down,  and  the  danger  subside.  In  this 
I  was  plainly  telling  my  convictions  and  hopes,  for  I  con- 
fess I  did  not  then  appreciate  the  imminency  of  the  storm. 
1  inquired  of  him,  '  What  kind  of  a  man  have  you  at  Fort 
Moultrie? '  To  this  he  responded  quickly :  '  By  the  by,  that 
reminds  me  that  the  officer  there  reported  last  week  that  a 
collision  had  like  to  have  occurred  at  the  Charleston  wharf 
between  our  men  and  some  citizens,  as  to  the  right  or  pref- 
erence of  our  captain's  little  vessel  and  some  hot-bloods,  and 
was  only  avoided  by  cool-headed  citizens.'  As  to  the  officer, 
he  said:  'He  is  somewhat  nervous,  a  Northerner,  a  good 
officer,  but  not  likely  to  forbear  much.'  I  asked  him  if  it 
might  not  be  better  to  have  another  man  from  neither  South 
nor  New  England  —  a  firm,  good-natured  Western  man. 
While  we  all  felt  very  uneasy  as  to  the  future,  I  was  hope- 
ful, trusting  that  if  things  could  be  kept  quiet  until  the  in- 
coming Administration  should  be  firmly  seated,  our  sky 
would  brighten,  and  by  some  unforeseen  means  amity  be  re- 
stored. I  think  the  President  and  Governor  Floyd  had  the 
same  hopes. 

"Before  that  interview  closed,  I  was  asked  if  I  had  any 
acquaintance  in  South  Carolina  who  might  be  competent 
and  willing  to  write  a  few  strong  articles,  and  get  them  pub- 
lished in  a  paper  in  Columbia  or  Charleston,  discouraging 
an  outbreak  by  the  young  men.     After  reflecting  awdiile,  I 


r.iKiioi'  OF  THE  :su  i*.  (iivia  ii,  south.  145 


told  him  my  iu'(juiiintance  among  that  class  of  men  there 
was  very  limited,  as  it  recjuired  a  litei-ary  and  influential 
man,  whose  name,  qualities,  and  j)osition  were  not  easily 
found  by  a  transient  visitor  as  I  had  been  in  that  State: 
but  I  thought  I  knew  one  man  who  could  do  it,  and  might 
})e  willing  to  do  so  in  the  interest  of  peace,  hnv,  and  oidei-, 
although  decidedly  and  in  every  respect  a  Southerner.  I'p- 
on  his  saying  that  the  fact  last  mentioned  would  give  his 
advice  more  weight,  and  asking  me  to  write  to  him,  I  agreed 
to  do  so.  I  did  write  to  my  friend;  he  consented,  and  1 
learned  he  redeemed  his  promise,  and  it  was  thought  with 
good  effect.  This  convei"sation  took  place  Nov.  19,  i860; 
and  I  here  state  positively  that  during  it  nothing  was  said 
or  intimated  that  any  of  the  'forts,  arsenals,  or  other  prop- 
erty of  the  United  States  at  Charleston,  was  to  be  surren- 
dered to  the  State.'  I  soon  learned  that  INIajor  Anderson 
was  in  command  there — a  Western  man,  I  believe — and 
that  an  increased  confidence  was  felt  for  the  conservation  of 
peace  until  Congress  should  meet;  but  the  shadows  deep- 
ened, and  a  storm  burst  suddenly.  So  much  I  deem  just  to 
the  dead  and  the  living.  R.  Paine." 

Bishop  Paine  was  a  prudent  Christian  patriot.  At  the 
South  Carolina  Conference  resolutions  were  offered  in  sym- 
pathy with  the  secession  movement.  He  ruled  them  out  of 
order,  and  they  were  not  pressed  upon  the  Conference. 
The  Bishop  held  the  reins  with  a  firm  grasp.  He  said,  "  Pol- 
itics cannot  be  allowed  in  a  Methodist  Conference."  They 
were  therefore  kept  out.  Would  that  they  had  always  been 
kept  out  of  Methodist  Conferences!  The  South  Carolina 
Conference  was  the  last  over  which  he  presided  before  the 
terrible  internecine  war  which  for  four  terrible  years  swept 
like  a  fearful  cyclone  over  our  dear  Southland. 
10 


146  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,  D.D. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

The  Civil  War — Sorrow  upon  Sorrow. 

(THORTLY  after  the  session  of  the  Virginia  Conference, 
5l)  durinof  which  he  had  his  interview  with  President  Buch- 
anan,  he  returned  home,  and  awaited  events  with  the  great- 
est anxiety.  With  the  fall  of  Sumter  the  call  was  made 
by  President  Lincoln  for  seventy-f.ye  thousand  volunteers. 
The  bloody  war  of  four  long,  disastrous  years  followed. 
During  these  years  he  kept  no  regular  diary.  A  note  now 
and  then  of  an  important  battle,  of  a  terrible  raid,  of  the 
death  of  some  dear  friend  killed  in  battle,  or  of  a  day  ap- 
pointed for  fasting  and  prayer,  and  then  a  pious,  tearful 
ejaculation,  "O  God,  protect  our  people ! "  constituted  about 
all  that  can  be  found  among  his  papers  of  what  he  recorded 
during  the  war.  He  was  not  a  politician,  and  I  never 
knew  whether  he  favored  the  secession  movement  or  not. 
AVhen,  however,  his  people  were  involved  in  this  internecine 
strife,  all  his  sympathies  were  with  his  native  South.  He 
was  much  discouraged  from  almost  the  beginning  of  the 
war.  He  staid  much  at  home.  He  communed  with  his 
own  heart.  He  offered  silent,  secret,  fervent  prayer  to 
God.  He  preached  mostly  in  the  country  to  those  who 
needed  much  his  pious  counsel  and  spiritual  teachings.  He 
held  but  few  Conferences.  He  sometimes  visited  the  Con- 
federate armies  and  preached  to  the  soldiers.  The  regular 
work  of  the  itinerant  Methodist  ministry  was  to  a  large 
extent  broken  up.  The  portion  of  country  in  which  he 
lived  was  subject  to  raids  at  any  time  after  the  fall  of  Fort 
Pillow  and  Nashville  and  Memphis;  and  then  Natchez  and 
Vicksburg  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  victorious  North. 
What  could  he  do  ?     He  was  then  more  than  sixty  years 


BISHOP  OF  TIIK  M.  E.  rilUKCII,  SOUTH.  147 


old,  and  he  was  not  able  to  undergo  the  toils  and  sufferings 
of  a  soldier's  life.  Besides,  his  warfare  was  one  not  to  be 
fought^  with  carnal  wea])()ns.  He  was  a  soldier  of  the  cross, 
and  he  could  wield  no  other  swoixl  than  the  "sword  of  the 
Spirit."  He  prepared  himself  for  the  defeat  which  he  well 
knew  was  sure  to  come.  He  saw  it  coming  long  before 
President  Davis  or  his  cabinet  thought  of  any  thing  else 
than  Southern  inde})endence.  At  the  instance  of  many 
friends  he  visited  Richmond  at  an  early  period  of  the  war, 
and  sought  to  arouse  the  Confederate  President  to  a  sense 
of  the  certain  ruin  that  was  soon  to  come  to  Mississippi,  and 
then  to  all  the  South.  His  wise  and  moderate  words  were 
not  heeded.  Other  counsels  prevailed.  He  returned  to 
his  home  patient,  resigned.  It  was  all  right.  God  knew 
what  was  best  for  the  South.  The  noblest  and  truest  men 
of  the  South  were  disappointed.  Never  were  a  people  more 
thoroughly  subdued.  They  fought  until  the  "  last  ditch  " 
was  reached,  and  they  could  fight  no  more.  Having  fought 
bravely,  the  officers  of  the  Southern  armies,  from  General 
Robert  E.  Lee  to  the  humblest  captain,  surrendered  in  good 
ftiith.  The  almost  universal  sentiment  among  the  good  peo- 
ple of  the  South  was  submission  to  the  Government  by  which 
they  had  been  subdued. 

During  the  war  he  had  charge  of  the  chaplains  in  the 
Southern  army,  and  often  himself  preached  to  the  soldiers, 
both  in  and  out  of  camp.  He  nursed  the  sick  and  wounded 
in  hospitals,  and  when  practicable  had  his  own  house  full  of 
them.  His  capture  was  strongly  desired  by  troops  making 
raids  through  North  JNlississippi.  He  was  told  by  a  re- 
turned Confederate  prisoner  that  in  a  conversation,  between 
two  Federal  officers  it  was  said  that  they  intended  to  carry 
that  old  rebel  Bishop  back  with  them  if  he  could  be  found ; 
consequently  he  frequently  left  home  unexpectedly  and  spent 
days  and  nights  in  the  forest  to  avoid  ca2)ture — Aberdeen 


148  LIFE  OF  PvOBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 

being-  on  contested  ground,  and  being  much  exposed  to  raids 
from  the  invading  army.  Mrs.  Scruggs  (liis  daughter)  sends 
us  the  folloAving,  taken  from  lier  diary  kei)t  during  the  war : 

"January  1,  1865. — Father  returned  home  to-day  from 
the  southern  part  of  the  State,  where  he  had  been  to  avoid 
the  Federal  raid. 

"January  2. — Federal  soldiers  reported  burning  farm- 
houses north  of  Aberdeen.  Father  on  horseback,  ready  to 
leave  town  at  any  time. 

"February  13. — He  preached  to  the  soldiers  in  camp  to- 
day. 

"  February  25. — Father  and  mother  went  to  his  plantation 
to  superintend  the  nursing  of  his  sick  negroes,  thirty-eight 
being  down  with  the  measles  at  the  same  time.  Many  of 
the  negroes  are  very  ill,  and  many  died.  One  old  family 
servant,  to  whom  he  was  much  attached,  was  very  low  with 
the  measles.  He  nursed  her  day  and  nio-ht,  and  when  he 
discovered  she  must  die,  he  informed  her  of  her  danger, 
prayed  with  her,  and  told  her  if  after  she  became  speech- 
less her  faith  was  still  unwavering,  to  raise  her  hand.  Just 
before  she  breathed  her  last  she  did  raise  her  hand  toward 
heaven,  and  said  in  a  feeble  voice:  'Master,  all  is  right!' 
My  mother,  who  Avitnessed  the  scene,  said  father  shouted 
and  praised  God  for  such  a  victory." 

Soon  after  this  event,  he  writes:  "There  are  rumors  of 
peace.  Lee's  army  probably  surrendered.  The  Southern 
cause  is  lost.  Let  us  betake  ourselves  to  the  arts  of  peace. 
I  may  not  dwell  upon  the  horrors  of  this  war.  I  will  say, 
however,  that  the  best  bh)od  of  the  South  was  poured  out  like 
water.  Boys  of  fifteen  were  put  in  the  army.  My  own  dear 
boy  of  fifteen  went,  and  received  a  wound  from  which  he  suf- 
fered to  his  dying-day.  Old  men  went  forth  to  war.  The  wom- 
en gave  up  every  luxury,  and  returned  to  the  spinning-wlieel 
and  the  loom.    They  took  the  carpets  from  their  floors  and  the 


lusHor  OF  TiiK  :\r.  e.  ciiuiicir,  south.  149 

curtains  from  their  windows  to  give  to  the  soldiers.  And 
yet,  in  two  weeks  after  the  prochiniation  that  the  *  rebellion 
was  at  an  end,'  all  was  peace  aniong  our  people.  There 
Avere  no  armed  men;  there  were  no  raids.  Highway  rob- 
beries were  of  rare  occurrence.  Difficulties  between  the 
whites  and  blacks  seldom  took  place.  The  fight  had  Ijeen 
terrible,  but  now  all  the  good  and  true  men  and  self-sacri- 
ficing women  were  for  obedience  to  the  laws  and  loyalty  to 
the  Government."  Such  was  the  position  at  once  assumed 
by  Bishop  Paine.  He  counseled  forbearance.  He  urged 
the  practice  of  kindness  to  the  race  just  freed  from  slavery. 
He  inculcated  both  by  precept  and  example  the  cultiva- 
tion  of  the  highest  justice  and  honesty  in  all  dealings  be- 
tween the  races.  He  was  strong,  and  showed  himself  a 
man  —  a  noble,  true,  Christian  man — in  this  hour  which 
tried  men's  souls.  Always  conservative,  prudent,  and  cau- 
tious, he  was  never  more  so  than-at  this  important  juncture, 
which  threw  upon  him  as  one  of  the  leading  minds  and  one 
of  the  first  men  in  the  South  such  grave  responsibility. 

I  shall  ever  believe  that  it  was  owing;  to  the  teachings 
of  such  pure,  good  men  as  Bishops  Paine  and  Capers,  the 
two  Pierces,  father  and  son,  and  of  others  of  similar  char- 
acter, that  during  the  whole  war  the  whites  and  negroes 
at  the  South  lived  in  such  peace.  Within  less  than  one 
hundred  miles  of  Bishop  Paine's  home  the  sound  of  a  bugle 
would  reach  the  ears  of  five  thousand  negroes,  and  the  same 
blast  could  not  be  heard  by  more  than  fifty  white  men ;  and 
these  white  men  were  mostly  aged  and  infirm,  and  they, 
with  their  homes,  wives,  and  daughters,  were  entirely  in  the 
power  of  these  negroes.  Yet  no  harm  befell.  In  many 
places  large  plantations  were  cultivated  entirely  by  negroes, 
without  the  oversight  of  any  white  man,  and  all  went  on  in 
])eace  and  safety.  God  was  in  the  t(>ac]iiiig  of  such  men  as 
we  have  named,  or  rapine  and  murder  would  have  been  the 


150  LIFE  OF    ROBERT  FAINE,  D.D. 


order  of  the  day.  Bishop  Paine  io  the  tliird  year  of  his  iniD- 
istry  volunteered  to  go  as  a  missionary  to  Africa.  This  he 
did  under  the  appeals  made  to  him  by  a  negro  preacher,  as 
recorded  in  Bedford's  History  of  Methodism  in  Kentucky. 
Before  his  election  as  Bishop,  he  told  me  that  he  intended 
to  leave  La  Grange  College  and  devote  himself  to  the  mis- 
sionary work  among  the  negroes  of  Mississippi.  He  always 
felt  the  deepest  interest  in  that  race.  He  was  the  best  of 
masters.  He  preached  to  them  on  every  suitable  occasion. 
And  now  he  was  rewarded  by  the  perfect  good  feeling  and 
confidence  which  existed  between  the  two  races  during  a  war 
waged  with  terrible  severity,  not  to  say  relentless  cruelty. 

The  following  abstract  of  a  speech  delivered  by  him  in 
the  Methodist  church  in  Aberdeen,  Mississippi,'  where  he 
lived,  at  the  close  of  the  war,  will  give  additional  force  to 
what  has  been  written  here  of  the  influence  exerted  by  him 
in  the  interests  of  law  and  order: 

"We  have  passed  through  four  years  of  fierce  and  bloody 
war.  It  is  over.  The  decision  has  been  made  by  the  mili- 
tary authorities;  and  I  presume  I  might  add  with  the  ad- 
vice of  the  civil  authorities  also,  for  doubtless  they  have 
concurred  with  the  military,  though  not  formally  and  in 
their  official  capacities.  '  Our  troops  have  been  surrendered, 
and  will  all  soon  be  paroled.  Our  armies,  as  such,  exist  no 
longer.  The  whole  country  east  of  the  Mississippi  River 
now  resumes  its  place  in  the  Union.  What,  then,  is  the 
proper  course  to  be  pursued  by  citizens?  His  own  convic- 
tion on  this  subject  was  clear  and  decided:  It  is  that  we 
should  calmly,  quietly,  and  unanimously  resume  our  former 
l)osition  as  peaceful  citizens,  and  in  good  faith  enter  as  such 
upon  the  performance  of  our  duties.  Our  country  has  cer- 
tainly suffered  enough  in  all  that  is  dear  to  us.  Thousands 
of  precious  lives  have  been  lost,  and  millions  of  property 
destroyed.     But   let   us  henceforth  turn  our  thoughts  and 


BISHOr  OF  THE  M.   E.   CHURCH,  SOUTH.  151 


efforts  to  the  pursuits  of  life  ^vllich  are  necessary  and  use- 
ful.    The  i)oor,  atHicted,  and  bereaved  must  be  cared  for. 
The  education  of  our  chihlren  must  be  provided  for.     The 
tendency  to  demoralization,  that  invariable  concomitant  of 
Avar,  must  be  arrested ;  and  law,  order,  and  fidelity  to  every 
social,  civil,  and  religious  duty  must  be  encouraged  and  sus- 
tained by  us.    Let  all  the  soldiers  heed  the  advice  and  follow 
the  example  of  their  leaders,  who  have  given  up  the  struggle. 
Let  them  receive  the  parole  agreed  upon,  and  in  good  faith 
lay  aside  their  arms,  return  to  their  families  and  friends,  and 
become  useful  citizens.     Let  them  not  yield  to  the  tempta- 
tion to  carry  on  a  guerrilla  warfare,  which  we  have  ever  re- 
garded as  wrong  in  principle.     Such  a  warfare,  moreover, 
would  result  in  no  good,  but  bring  great  and  continued  dis- 
tress upon  the  country  and  utterly  ruin  those  engaged  in 
it.     Finally,  having  always  disapproved  of  using  the  pul- 
pit to  discuss  political  questions  in  which  angry  passions  are 
sought  to  be  aroused,  he  solemnly  and  deliberately  advised 
his  countrymen  on  the  east  side  of  the  Mississippi  Kiver— 
and  if  his  voice  could  be  heard,  he  would  thus  speak  to 
those  on  the  west  side  also— to  resume  in  good  faith  their 
former    positions    as    law-abiding    and    peaceful    citizens. 
And  in  closing  my  remarks,"  said  Bishop  Paine,   "  I  can 
svith  more  propriety  address  my  brethren  in  the  ministry 
,vho  are  present,  to  say  to  them  that  I  respectfully  and 
earnestly  advise  them  all  to  use  their  influence,  both  pub- 
licly and  privately,  for  the  promotion  of  peace  and  quiet- 
ness among  all  classes,  and  especially  among  the  ministers 
and  members  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  South." 

These  sentiments  of  the  Bishop  commend  themselves  to 
the  approval  of  all  dispassionate  and  thinking  men,  and  as 
such  we  <i;ive  them  to  our  readers.'^' 


*T1hs  was  imMished  at  the  time  in  an  Al)er(leen  paper,  and  fur- 
nished the  author  l.y  liis  daughter,  Mrs.  Ludie  P.  Scruggs. 


152  LIFE   OF  ROBEUT  PAINE,  D.D. 


ti\T 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Notes  of  Life" — Seeking  for  Truth— Dr.  Bascom — Polit- 
ical Issues — President  Monroe — Missions  Among  the  In- 
dians— De  Soto. 

niSHOP  PAINE,  in  his  "Notes  of  Life,"  published  after 
jJ  he  had  attained  to  four-score  years,  presents  us  ^vith 
many  reminiscences  and  incidents  which  are  vahiable  helps 
in  forming  an  estimate  of  his  character.  The  painstaking 
industry  and  thoughtful  application  in  search  of  truth,  which 
are  so  rare,  and  yet  so  necessary  to  decision  of  character,  he 
exhibits  in  the  following  extract : 

"Having  been  reared  under  Baptist  influence,  and  edu- 
cated of  late  by  Presbyterian  ministers,  I  had  naturally 
imbibed  Calvinistic  views;  but  while  I  yielded  the  uncon- 
ditional predestination  dogma,  my  immersion  sentiment  re- 
mained unchanged  for  some  time.  At  last  I  resolved  to 
examine  the  question  prayerfully.  It  had  been  in  our  aca- 
demic course  of  study  to  recite  occasionally  in  the  Greek 
Testament,  and  this  habit  of  reading  some  in  it  daily  I  con- 
tinued. I  thus  began  to  read  the  New^  Testament  with  ref- 
erence to  the  Greek,  to  find  out,  if  possible,  from  the  word 
of  God  the  mode  of  baptism,  determined  to  adhere  to  my 
mature  convictions  whatever  they  might  be  or  wherever 
ihey  might  lead  me.  In  doing  so  I  confess  I  had  but  little 
doubt  that  I  could  soon  i)lace  my  finger  upon  the  texts  which 
would  confirm  my  belief  in  immersion  as  the  Bible  mode. 
John  baptizing  in  Jordan  came  up  first.  Is  the  mode  of 
Chrldkui  baptism  here?  If  so,  is  it  immersion f  I  was 
forced  to  answer.  No,  it  was  not  ChriMian  baptism,  and 
not   necessarily   by  immersion.      The  *  burial   by   baptism' 


BISHOP  OF  TIIK  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  153 

was  spiritual,  and  '  unto  death,'  and  does  not  relate  to  wa- 
ter, much  less  to  the  mode  of  baptism.  The  case  of  Philip 
and  the  eunuch  was  next  exaniined.  I  had  heard  going 
down  into  and  coming  out  of  the  water  often  quoted,  ac- 
companied with  gestures  of  plunging  into  and  lifting  up,  as 
illustrating  the  act  of  baptizing  referred  to,  but  aside  from 
the  fact  that  the  Greek  prepositions  rendered  into  and  out 
of  are  equally  as  susceptible  of  being  translated  to  and  from, 
they  do  not  at  all  express  the  act  of  baptism — that  act  took 
place  in  the  interval  between  going  into  and  coming  out  of, 
for  after  it  is  said  'they  both  went  down,'. it  is  added,  'and 
he  baptized  him;'  and  then  'they  came  up,'  etc.  Here 
again  I  was  disappointed.  Going  down  from  the  chariot 
was  2)reparatory  to  the  baptism,  and  coming  up  consequent 
upon  it,  no  matter  by  what  mode  it  was  administered.  Thus, 
to  say  nothing  as  to  the  improbabilities  of  an  immersion  in 
this  instance  growing  out  of  that  part  of  the  Scripture  which 
Philip  was  explaining,  in  which  the  term  'sprinkling'  is 
expressly  used,  and  that  the  eunuch  at  once  went  on  his 
journey,  while  nothing  is  even  intimated  that  his  whole  per- 
son was  submerged,  the  question.  Where  is  the  Bible  proof 
of  immersion?  became  involved  in  serious  doubts.  Is  the 
])ro()f  in  the  case  of  St,  Paul,  Cornelius^  Lydia,  or  the 
jailer?  All  these  unmistakably  point  another  way.  Is  it 
in  the  Greek  word  translated,  or  transferred,  baptize  f  Would 
the  Saviour,  after  repeatedly  using  the  word  hapto,  which  is 
translated,  correctly  too,  'to  dip,'  lay  it  aside  when  he  enjoins 
Christian  bai)tism,  and  then  sul)stitute  for  it  haptizo,  if  ba])- 
tism  can  be  i)erlbrmed  only  by  dip})ing  (esi)ecially  if  bajt- 
tizo  is  not  used  specifically  elsewhere  in  the  New  Testament 
to  mean  dip)?  Why  not  avoid  all  misconception  and  diffi- 
culty by  continuing  1o  use  the  word  hapto,  which  he  inva- 
riably employs  to  express  dip? 

"And  of  what  special  inq)<)rtance  is  tlic  mode  of  baptism 


154  LIFE  OF   ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 

more  tlian  that  of  tlie  other  great  sacrament?  Why  not 
attach  as  much  importance  to  the  mode  of  communicating 
and  receiving  the  holy  eucharist?  As  the  essentials  of  the 
latter  are  bread  and  wine,  a  fit  recipient,  and  an  authorized 
administrator,  while  the  quality  of  the  bread  and  wine  and 
the  posture  of  the  receiver  are  admitted  by  all  to  be  unes- 
sential, why  is  not  baptism  with  water,  in  the  name  of  the 
Trinity,  administered  by  an  authorized  minister  to  a  fit  sub- 
ject, really  water  baptism,  irrespective  of  quantity  of  water 
used  or  the  posture  of  the  subject?  Finally,  as  water  bap- 
tism is  a  sign  or  symbol  of  that  baptism  of  the  Holy  Spirit 
by  which  we  are  washed  and  purified  internally,  and  as  the 
antitype,  spiritual  baptism,  is  an  act  of  God,  described  as 
pouring,  is  it  not  proper  to  follow  him,  and  to  baptize  as  he 
does,  by  pouring?  Such  considerations  cleared  away  the 
fogs  of  my  early  prepossessions,  and  longer  experience  and 
study  have  only  strengthened  and  satisfied  me.  Having 
deliberately  concluded  to  do  so,  I  was  thus  baptized  by 
Miles  Harper,  in  Franklin,  Tenn.,  November  3,  1817. 

"  The  process  of  reasoning  which  satisfied  me  as  to  the  bap- 
tism of  children  was  short  and  simple.  God  is  King;  the 
Church  his  kingdom;  children  have  ever  been  recognized 
citizens  in  it.  It  was  so  in  its  organization  under  the  Abra- 
hamic  covenant,  which  is  the  gospel  covenant,  unchanged 
in  essentials  and  substance — only  modified  in  services — 
the  same  King  and  kingdom.  When  and  by  whom  were 
children  disfranchised  and  exiled  from  the  kingdom? 
Not  by  Christ,  who  took  them  in  his  arms,  and  proclaimed 
'little  children' — 'infants' — to  be  subjects  of  his  kingdom, 
the  Church  (Matt.  xix.  14).  'Of  such  is  the  kingdom  of 
heaven' — i.e.,  let  them  come,  for  my  kingdom  is  of  such. 
Again,  'Except  ye  be  converted  and*l)ecome  as  little  chil- 
dren, ye  shall  not  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven'  (Matt, 
xviii.  3).     If  adults  must  become  internally  like  children 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CITURCII,  SOUTH.  15f: 

to  fit  them  for  citizenship,  surely  children  themselves  have 
an  oriirinal,  riLrhtful  claim  to  citizenship  in  it;  and  as  wa- 
ter baptism  is  the  only  full  and  formal  recognition  of  citi- 
zenship, they  are  consequently  entitled  to  it.  Did  not  our 
Ijord  teach  Nicodemus  that  while  the  internal  operation, 
'born  an:ain,'  is  a  requisite  'to  see  the  kingdom  of  God' 
(John  iii.  3),  baptism,  or  to  be  born  of  water  as  well  as 
of  the  Spirit,  is  needful  to  a  formal  and  full  recoj'.nition 
and  entrance  into  the  gospel  Church?  AVas  not  all  this  a 
reaffirmation  and  confirmation  of  the  chartered  rights  and 
privileges  of  the  beneficiaries  of  the  original  covenant  with 
Abraham,  'confirmed  before  of  God  in  Christ,'  which  can- 
not be  'disannulled?'  Surely  it  was  not  a  reversal  or  re- 
peal of  the  original  law,  and  of  universal  usage  under  it. 
Certainly  neither  the  apostles  nor  their  opponents  under- 
stood it  so.  A  change  so  radical  would  have  been  at  once 
denounced  by  the  latter  and  recorded  unequivocally  by  the 
evangelists.  It  could  not  have  been  unnoticed.  It  involved 
the  status  of  every  child.  Then  many  Rachels  would  have 
wailed  and  refused  to  be  comforted.  The  apostles  and 
early  Christians  did  not  understand  that  Christ  had  closed 
the  door  against  these  children,  and  that  'the  promise  was 
not  to  their  children,'  as  well  as  to  them.  The  fact  is  that 
no  question  of  the  kind  is  more  certainly  established  tliau 
that  infant  baptism  was  the  prevailing  custom  of  the  early 
and  purest  period  of  the  Christian  Church.  I  find  no  evi- 
dence that  the  right  of  children  to  this  ordinance  was  denied 
for  the  first  thousand  years  after  Christ.  The  postponement 
of  baptism  from  infancy  to  maturity  came  with  other  er- 
rors," 

Of  Henry  B.  Bascom,  a  pulpit  orator  who  had  no  equal 
in  his  day,  we  have  an  appreciative  notice.  The  time  is 
the  second  or  third  year  of  the  young  itinerant,  and  the 
vividness  of  the  im2:)res6icD   made  upon   his   mind    by  the 


156  LIFE  OF   E0BP:RT   PAINE,    D.D. 

peerless  Bascom  is  recalled  after  the  lapse  of  nearly  sixty 
years : 

"As  the  year  advanced  the  congregations  grew  larger,  and 
our  quarterly  and  camp  meetings  were  glorious  seasons  of 
refreshing.  At  the  camp-meeting  held  at  Thomas's,  about 
ten  miles  east  of  Franklin,  H.  B.  Bascom  preached  to  a 
vast  multitude,  on  Rev.  vi.  17:  'For  the  great  day  of  his 
wrath  is  come,  and  who  shall  be  able  to  stand?'  It  was 
awfully  sublime,  and  for  effect  I  have  never  seen  it  sur- 
passed. The  whole  congregation  unconsciously  rose  to  their 
feet,  and  with  eyes  fixed  upon  the  speaker  moved  toward 
the  pulpit.  The  peroration  was  overwhelming.  It  was  on 
Sunday  afternoon,  during  the  camp-meeting  held  in  the 
open  air,  under  the  wide-spread  branches  of  gigantic  trees, 
and  upon  an  eminence  commanding  a  wide  range  of  view. 
The  sky  wore  the  somber  cast  of  Indian  summer ;  the  sun, 
seen  through  the  dusky  atmosphere,  grew  larger  as  it  slowly 
declined  to  the  horizon,  becoming  lurid  and  portentous ;  not 
a  breath  of  air  disturbed  the  overhanging  boughs;  nature 
seemed  in  ominous  repose,  and  nothing  was  heard  save  the 
voice  of  the  prince  of  pulpit  orators.  Xow  in  low,  solemn, 
tender  tones  of  suppressed  emotion,  he  pictured  the  'great' 
day,  and  warned  of  its  'coming  unawares;'  and  anon,  in 
short,  rapid,  successive  denunciations,  like  the  sharp  rattle 
of  a  hundred  rifles  in  quick  succession,  foreshadowing  'the 
day  of  his  wrath ; '  closing  by  alluding  to  the  scenic  sur- 
roundings of  earth  and  sky,  and  the  imperative  duty  of 
immediate  preparation  for  'the  inevitable  hour.'  Hun- 
dreds bowed  for  prayer,  and  there  was  no  other  preaching 
until  the  next  day,  when  he  preached  on  'Add  to  your 
faith,'  etc." 

Although  Bishop  Paine  did  not  suffer  himself  to  be  en- 
tangled with  the  political  discussions  and  the  party  strifes 
of  liis  day,  he  was  by  no  means  an  indifferent  spectator  in 


rsiBiiop  OF  THE  M.  E.  ciirncir,  south.  157 


the  mcniorahle  strugoles  of  tlie  past.  The  accuracy  of  his 
inforniatiou  upon  .subjects  of  political  and  national  history 
cannot  be  questroncd.     In  his  "Notes  of  Life"  he  says: 

"  The  year  1819-20  was  a  menioral)le  period.  It  was  such 
to  the  country,  to  the  Church,  and  in  luy  (.wn  pgrsonal  his- 
tory. Politically  it  was  eventful.  It  marked  the  opening- 
of  a  great  strugole,  which,  like  the  low  muttering  of  a  dis- 
tant storm,  had  been  occasionally  heard  by  prescient  states- 
man, but  now  assumed  a  definite  and  visible  form  of  a  i)or- 
tentous  cyclone,  overspreading  the  fairest  and  happiest  land 
beneath  the  sky.  I  allude  to  the  admission  of  IVIissouri  into 
the  Federal  Union  by  Congress,  when  for  the  first  time  the 
question  of  slavery  divided  the  country  by  a  geographical 
line.  The  culmination  of  that  storm  was  the  four-years' 
civil  war  of  1861-65.  The  deplorable  results  of  that  frat- 
ricidal struggle  are  too  well  known  to  require  repetition  or 
comment.  The  evils  of  it  are  inconceivable,  and  the  re- 
sponsibility for  it  must  be  decided  by  the  only  court  of  sii- 
preme  jurisdiction.  If  I  felt  in  any  degree  responsible  for 
it,  I  think  it  would  craze  me.     Thank  God,  I  do  not ! 

"Among  other  important  events  of  that  period  were  the 
promulgation  and  establishment  of  the  'Monroe  Doctrine' 
of  non-intervention  of  foreign  powers  with  the  South  Amer- 
ican States  and  Territories ;  the  right  of  the  Federal  Gov- 
ernment to  make  internal  improvements;  the  admission  of 
jNIissouri,  Mississippi,  Illinois,  Alabama,  and  INIaiue  into  the 
Union;  the  cession  of  Florida  (East  and  West),  and  adja- 
cent islands,  to  the  United  States  by  Spain ;  and  the  approval 
of  the  act  establishing  the  Bank  of  the  United  States  by 
Congress.  The  discussion  of  these  topics  in  the  Congres- 
sional and  Legislative  halls  of  the  United  States  was  like  so 
many  volcanic  outbursts,  threatening  the  very  upheaval 
and  destruction  of  the  i)olitical  frame-work  of  our  Govern- 
ment.    Fortunately  Congress  never  was  filled  by  so  many 


158  LIFE  OF  ROEEKT   PAINE,   D.D. 


great  men.  It  was  the  war  of  giants.  The  tremors  of  that 
antagonism  are  not  over,  but  occasionally  throb  in  the  body 
politic. 

"Some  of  these  questions — the  first-named  especially — 
were  such  i^  naturally  and  almost  of  necessity  produced  a 
great  sectional  sensation  in  Church  as  well  as  State  rela- 
tions. And  thus  the  most  delicate  and  dangerous  of  all 
moral,  political,  and  economic  questions,  which  might  pos- 
sibly have  been  peacefully  and  safely  adjusted  in  the  calm- 
ness of  fraternal  debate  by  patriotic,  Christian  statesman- 
ship, became  a  wedge  in  the  hands  of  impassioned  partisans 
and  uncompromising  fanatics  to  rend  and  nearly  destroy  the 
boasted  fabric  of  our  national  Union.  The  darkest  page 
in  Protestant  history  is  that  which  records  the  civil  war  of 
our  States  in  1861-65.  Great  men,  like  powerful  locomo- 
tives, are  dangerous  without  a  corresponding  controlling 
power.  An  archangel  would  be  a  safe  custodian  of  a  na- 
tion, but  without  purity  he  would  wreck  and  ruin  it.  Un- 
fortunately our  statesmen  proved  unequal  to  the  crisis. 

"To  the  Church  also  this  Avas  an  era  of  unusual  impor- 
tance. Our  Methodism,  in  common  with  other  Protestant 
denominations,  had  made  gradual  and  decisive  advances  in 
every  department  of  Christian  enterprise.  Revivals  had 
been  extensive,  accessions  of  members  unusually  great,  the 
number  of  candidates  for  the  ministry  had  multiplied, 
and  withal  their  gifts,  grace,  and  usefulness  indicated  a 
higher  grade  of  qualifications.  Led  and  stimulated  by  her 
able  and  consecrated  chief  pastors  and  experienced  preach- 
ers, and  by  the  cooperation  of  laymen,  there  was  a  forward 
movement  all  along  the  Church-line.  The  watchmen  had 
long  prayed,  and  anxiously  looked  out  from  their  watch- 
towers;  had  responded  to  the  cry,  'What  of  the  night?' 
'The  morning  cometh,  and  also  the  night.'  A  crisis  was  at 
hand,  but  the  promised  day  had  not  burst.     The  yearning 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  159 

lieart  and  the  eye  of  faith  wistfully  turned  to  read  in  the 
signs  of  the  times  the  realization  of  a  brighter  era.  Heaven 
had  been  i)reparing  the  Church  and  the  world  for  a  great 
iidvance  step.  As  in  the  age  after  Julius  Ciesar  passed  away 
the  temple  of  Janus  was  shut,  so  when  Napoleon  Bonaparte, 
M  hose  character  and  history  strikingly  resembled  the  Roman 
r.surper,  had  been  dethroned,  white-robed  peace  seemed  to 
have  come  down  to  dwell  again  among  the  nations. 

"  This  turbulent  spirit,  at  once  the  terror  of  Europe  and 
the  pride  and  scourge  of  France,  having  risen  from  obscu- 
rity by  the  combination  of  extraordinary  political  events, 
controlled  by  a  masterful  mind,  had  been  chafing  like  a 
caged  lion,  in  a  lonely  island  of  the  ocean  since  1815,  and 
the  world  looked  on  and  breathed  free.  By  the  treaty  of 
Ghent  England  and  America  had  made  peace,  while  Spain 
and  the  tribes  of  Indians  upon  our  fi'ontier  had  joined  us 
in  new  treaties  of  amity.  Even  theological  warriors  beat 
the  'drum  ecclesiastic'  less  long  and  loud,  and  Christians, 
looked  into  each  other's  faces,  and  began  to  ask  if  the  points 
in  which  they  could  agree  were  not  as  many  as  those  about 
Avhich  they  differed,  and  more  important.  It  soon  appeared 
that  while  the  different  Protestant  denominations  had  been 
at  war  among  themselves  about  the  meaning  of  the  Bible  as  to 
'  mint,  anise,  and  cummin,'  they  had  neglected  the  weightier 
matter  of  giving  the  Book  itself  to  the  people.  In  this,"  at 
least,  they  could  all  unite.  In  1816  the  American  Bible 
Society  was  organized,  and  as  was  eminently  fit  and  signfi- 
cant,  this  precious  book  became  the  great  basis  of  Christian 
union.  To  print  and  distribute  it  in  all  languages,  and  put 
it  into  the  hands  of  all  men,  was  its  acknowledged  mission. 

"  Up  to  this  date  there  had  been  no  regular  missionaries 
sent  by  our  people  into  heathen  lands,  nor  any  society  among 
us  formed  for  the  purpose.  The  earth  swarmed  with  l)e- 
nighted  humanity.     Even  upon  our  own  continent,  at  out 


160  LIFE    OF   rOBEHT   FAIXE,    D.D. 

door,  and  throughout  our  whole  borders,  they  lived  by  myr- 
iads; but  until  1820  there  had  been  no  efficient  organiza- 
tion of  missionary  or  Sunday-school  societies  through  which 
the  Christian  zeal  and  philanthropy  of  our  Church  could 
operate.  But  the  time  had  come  —  the  heathen  cry  for 
help  had  been  heard,  and  the  response  had  been  quickly 
and  gladly  uttered  by  many,  '  Here  are  ^ve,  send  us.'  Al- 
most simultaneously  these  agencies  started  upon  their  glo- 
rious careers.  The  faithful  watchman,  who  long  had  waited, 
cried  from  his  lofty  tower,  'Lo,  the  day  breaketh,  and  the, 
night  is  over  and  gone ! '  '  The  clock  of  ages  had  struck,' 
and  a  new  era  had  begun." 

The  field  for  the  sowing  of  the  good  seed  of  the  kingdom 
was  widening  every  year.  The  restless  spirit  of  the  popu- 
lation in  the  Eastern  and  Middle  States  gave  occasion  to 
the  land  speculators  of  the  time,  and  they  seized  it  to  prac- 
tice extortion  upon  the  people.  Of  this  swelling  stream  of 
immigration,  and  of  the  heartless  exactions  of  land  monop- 
olists, he  says : 

"After  the  accession  of  Mr.  Monroe  to  the  Presidency,  in 
1817,  a  vast  amount  of  fertile  land,  recently  obtained  from 
various  Indian  tribes,  was  offered  for  sale  at  public  auction 
])y  the  Government,  especially  in  the  South-western  States. 
-Immigration  poured  in  like  a  flood — the  land  speculation 
mania  rose  to  a  high  pitch.  Capitalists  formed  associations 
to  purchase  extensively  and  to  put  down  competition.  The 
Mand  sales'  became  scenes  of  the  wildest  disorder.  The 
plain  and  honest  immigrant,  who  came  with  moderate 
means  to  secure  a  home,  found  it  needful  to  join  a  company 
to  prevent  being  crushed,  and  even  then  had  been  compelle^l 
to  pay  a  high  price  for  his  home,  by  the  grasping  speculatoi-s. 
Mr.  Monroe,  in  a  tour  of  personal  observation  through  the 
States,  visited  Huntsville,  Ala.,  after  such  a  scene  had  oc- 
curred there,  and  attended  a  great  public  dining  given  him 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  161 


The  occasion  wasuniisiial — the  personnel  of  President  Mon- 
roe, his  history  as  a  soldier  and  patriot  statesman,  and  the 
vast  and  intelligent  concourse  present,  made  it  an  impressive 
day.     A  toast  was  offered,  complimentary   to   the   distin- 
guished guest  and  to  the  Government,  closing  by  allusion  to 
Mie  high  price  for  the  public  land  by  the  people  to  swell  the 
coffers  of  the  General  Government.     In  reply,  the  President 
arose  to  his  feet  and  gracefully  responded  to  the  compli- 
ment.    He  was  large,  finely  formed,  and  of  noble  mien ;  and 
standing  in  the  midst  of  the  most  wealthy,  finely  dressed, 
and  intelligent  crowd  which  the  South  could  show ;  he  ap- 
peared in  a  blue  homespun  coat  cut  in  military  style  of  the 
Revolution,  light-colored  vest  and  trousers,  and  cocked  hat. 
A  shade  is  said  to  have  passed  over  his  face  as  he  closed 
by  saying  he  had  been  made  sorry  by  hearing  that  those 
who  wished  for  homes  for  their  families  had  been  obliged, 
by  speculators,  to  pay  high  prices;  that  the  United  States 
wanted  citizens  and  actual  settlers  upon  her  lands,  and  only 
required  the  cost  of  them.     The  sentiment  was  a  right  one, 
and  some  present  winced  under  it.     In  many  cases  those 
who  had  agreed  to  pay  from  twenty  to  sixty  dollars  per  acre 
for  lands  were  obliged  to  forfeit  them  after  they  had  made 
one  or  two  annual  paynients  for  them,  and  were  imbittered 
by  having  to  surrender  them  to  others.     In  parts  of  Alabama 
this  was  specially  the  case.     The  immigrants  were  generally, 
however,  of  the  better  class  of  citizens  from  the  Southern 
Atlantic  States,  and  from  Tennessee  and  Kentucky.     They 
made  fine  citizens." 

The  pioneer  in  the  West  and  South-west  had  no  sooner 
built  a  log-house,  and  cleared  a  few  acres  of  land,  than  the 
Methodist  preacher  arrived,  to  summon  him  to  thoughts  of 
God,  heaven,  and  eternity.  The  organization  of  missionary 
societies  Bishoj)  Paine  has  already  noticed.  In  the  follow- 
ing extract  he  enters  into  details : 


n 


162  IJFE  OF.  KODERT   PAINE,  D.D. 


"  The  formation  of  the  first  missionary  society  among  the 
Methodists,  to  oj^erate  among  the  Indians,  occurred  in  Tusca- 
loosa, in  the  spring  or  early  sunnner  of  1820.  I  am  now 
aware  that  Dr.  Bangs  had  brought  this  subject  to  notice  in 
New  York  about  that  ])eriod,  and  that  at  the  General  Con- 
ference held  that  year  it  had  been  ^determined  to  organize 
such  a  society,  and  that  a  constitution  had  been  ado})t(Ml 
and  officers  appointed — of  all  which  we  were  profoundly 
ignorant  when  the  members  of  our  Church,  together  with 
the  citizens  of  the  community  generally,  united  in  the  little 
shanty  of  the  Methodist  meeting-house  in  Tuscaloosa  and 
formed  a  'Missionary  Association'  to  Christianize  and  edu- 
cate the  two  large  tribes  of  Indians — Chickasaws  and  Choc- 
taws — our  immediate  neighbors.  The  lapse  of  over  sixty 
years  has  not  effaced  the  remembrance  of  my  feelings  when, 
after  all  the  preliminaries  had  been  finished,  the  writer  was 
urged  by  the  unanimous  vote  of  the  society  to  visit  the 
Choctaws,  to  obtain  the  consent  of  the  chiefs  and  council  to 
admit  missionaries,  and  if  successful,  to  select  a  site  for  a 
school,  nominate  a  superintendent,  and  report  so  soon  as 
possible.  All  which  was  done,  as  heretofore  related,  while 
prosecuting  this  enterprise.  After  consulting  the  United 
States  official  representative  in  the  Choctaw  Nation,  and 
beino;  assured  of  a  cordial  welcome,  and  when  seekino-  a  lo- 
cation  for  a  school,  I  was  taken  ill  of  a  malarial  fever,  and 
was  detained  so  long,  and  so  enfeebled,  that  I  was  obliged 
to  give  over  the  further  effort  to  explore  the  country.  I 
had,  however,  the  pleasure  of  reporting  to  our  association 
that  the  way  was  open,  and  that  the  vicinity  of  the  'Six 
Towns'  was  by  common  consent  recommended  as  the  best 
location  for  the  school.  I  was  also  authorized  to  nominate 
Nicholas  T.  Sneed  as  willing  to  take  charge  of  it  if  the  soci- 
ety and  the  Conference  would  go  promptly  into  it. 

"  Why  this  attempt  to  send  the  blessed  gospel  with  its  train 


RTSITOr  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  163 

of  civil,  social,  and  reliuioiis  influences  was  not  carried  for- 
ward at  once,  I  know  not.  ]*]arly  in  thv  Ihll  I  left  the  coun- 
try to  attend  the  Tennessee  Conference.  Hearn,  Renau, 
and  Bneed  fell  into  the  INIississippi  Conference,  and  by  the 
act  of  the  General  Conference  that  whole  section  of  country 
was  attached  to  the  Mississippi  Conference. 

"A  few  years  later,  through  the  labors  of  the  Conference 
missionaries — the  Talleys  especially — an  extraordinary  re- 
vival occurred  in  that  tribe.  Hersey  and  the  Presbyterian 
]\Iission  had  prepared  the  way,  while  Folsom,  Le  Flore,  and 
other  Choctaw  chiefs,  w'ere  instrumental  in  a  glorious  work 
of  moral  and  religious  benefit  to  the  whole  Nation. 

"It  is  not  surprising  that  ethnology,  the  science  which 
treats  of  the  difterent  races  of  men,  should  be  an  interesting 
subject  to  an  intelligent  people;  for  while  obscurity  rests  like 
a  cloud  over  the  origin  and  primeval  history  of  nearly  all 
nations,  it  is  natural  to  desire  to  know^  as  much  as  possible 
of  our  ancestry.  What  labor  and  expense  have  been  de- 
voted to  this  subject  in  unraveling  the  mysteries  of  African, 
Egyptian,  Grecian,  and  Roman  antiquities!  The  more 
cultured  a  people  become,  the  more  interest  they  take  in 
their  early  history.  A  thoroughly  barbarous  people  are 
utterly  indifferent  to  such  topics.  May  not  such  thoughts 
suggest  sufiicient  apology  for  some  remarks  upon  the  history 
of  the  great  tribes  contiguous  to  my  circuit  ? 

"The  Chickasaws  and  Choctaws  were  evidently  of  the 
same  stock — their  similarity  in  language,  j^ersonal  appear- 
ance, customs,  and  traditions  clearly  demonstrating  this  fact. 
They,  like  most  of  the*  red  race  in  the  United  States,  claim 
to  have  migrated  fi^om  the  North-west;  and  while  other 
tribes,  who  hold  themselves  to  be  of  North-western  origin, 
affirm  that  their  ancestors  continued  to  travel  eastward  to 
the  Atlantic  slope,  these  tribes  believe  their  fiithers,  after 
crossing  the  Mississippi  Iliver,  turned  south-west  and  settled 


1()4  LIFE  OF   ROBERT   PAINE,  D.D. 

where  authentic  history  found  them  several  centuries  ago. 
The  Cherokees  and  IMuscogees,  or  Creeks,  have  substantially 
the  same  tradition.     Naturalists  say   they   belong  to  the 
great  ^Appalachian'  family  of  Indians.     The  Appalachian, 
*  the  long  or  endless  mountain,'  M'as  the  name  given  by  De 
Soto  and  early  Spanish  authorities  to  the  great  range  of 
mountains,  including  its  plateaus  and  parallel  ridges,  which, 
leaving  Canada,  passed  through  Vermont,  New  York,  Penn- 
sylvania, and   on   southerly,  diverging  from  the  Atlantic 
coast -line,  and  subsiding  in  Georgia  and   Alabama,   and 
abounding  (throughout  its  whole  extent  generally)  in  coal, 
iron,  and  other  minerals.     The  south-western  extremity  of 
this  range  reaches  into  North   Mississippi,  separating  the 
tributaries  of  the  Mississippi  from  those  that  fall  into  the 
Bay  of  Mobile.     The  English  called  it  the  Alleghany  range, 
but  De  Soto  and  the  Spanish  discoverers,  the  Appalachian. 
Other  names  have  been  given  to   certain  parts  of  it,  as 
'Blue  Eidge,'   'Cumberland,'   etc.,   but   Appalachian   was 
probably  its  earliest  name  for  the  Avhole  range.     Geology 
indicates  that  the  larger  part  of  it  was  of  earlier  date  than 
tlie  Andes  or  Alps.     Over  a  great  part  of  this  territory,  es- 
pecially the  southern,  the  mysterious  old  Natchez  race,  the 
Cherokees,  Creeks,  and  their  associate  tribes,  were  found 
when  the  whole  race  invaded  that  region,  and  hence  the 
pountry  gave  the  name  to  its  inhabitants.     How  the  tribes 
, change  their  locations  is  illustrated  by  the  Delawares,  Shaw- 
'lees,  and  others,  once  residing  on  the  Atlantic  slope,  but  now 
<n  Kansas  and  the  North-west ;  and  to  what  extent  the  tribes 
have  mixed  is  indicated  by  the  facts  that  Tecumseh's  mother 
was  a  Creek,  while  he  and  his  brother — the  Prophet — w'ere 
Shawnees,  and  were  found  on  the  borders  of  Canada  in  the 
war  of  1812.     The  Choctaws  and  Chickasaws  were  less  mi- 
gratory in  disposition  tlian  usual  with  the  other  tribes;  for 
while  it  is  said  they  descended  from  two  brothers,  and  have 


BISHOP  OF  TIIK   M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  165 

always  lived  close  together,  they  have  retained  their  sepa- 
rate tribal  and  political  distinctions  to  a  remarkable  degree. 
Even  the  tierce  savage  wars  which  on  several  occasi(nis  have 
burst  forth  between  them  have  ceased  as  suddenly  as  they 
began.  About  equal  in  population,  in  intellectual  culture, 
and  in  industrial  improvements,  they  have  respected  each  oth- 
er's rights  as  good  neighbors  and  true  friends;  and  when  it 
has  been  otherwise,  the  fault  has  been  in  the  whites.  Hav- 
ing visited  them  while  living  here,  and  repeatedly  in  their 
new  homes  west  of  the  Mlsyissippi,  I  gladly  testify  that  this 
applies  to  them  now. 

"  The  first  authentic  account  we  have  of  these  two  great 
tribes  is  their  invasion  by  Fernando  De  Soto.  This  very 
remarkable  man  had  distinguished  himself  as  a  Spanish  cav- 
alier under  Pizarro,  in  the  conquest  of  Peru,  about  the  time 
of  Luther's  appearance,  in  obedience  to  the  command  of 
Charles  V.,  before  the  '  Diet  of  Worms.'  Having  returned 
to  Spain  loaded  with  the  spoils  of  that  infamous  war,  he 
asked  and  obtained  the  royal  consent  to  organize  an  army 
and  a  fleet  to  return  to  America  as  commander-in-chief,  and 
invade  and  attach  to  the  Kingdom  of  Spain  the  far-famed 
Florida.  Having  married  the  beautiful  Bobadilla,  daughter 
of  a  royal  favorite,  and  collected  a  large  force  of  the  most 
gallant  spirits  in  Spain,  he  set  sail,  with  the  knights  and 
some  of  their  wives,  to  rendezvous  at  the  Island  of- Cuba. 
There  he  left  the  ladies  and  proceeded  in  full  force  to  Tampa 
Bay  where  he  landed.  May  80,  1539.  This  was  the  largest 
and  most  formidable  army  that  had  ever  invaded  the  con- 
tinent. From  the  time  he  burned  his  transports,  and  thus 
cut  off  all  means  of  returning  to  Spain,  his  conduct  admits 
of  no  exiilanation  but  that  he  was  seeking  to  find  Ponce  de 
Leon's  imaginary  Fountain  of  Health,  or  the  fabulous  El 
Dorado  gold  and  diamond  mines.  Hence  he  spent  some  time 
iu  exploring  Florida;  thence  into  Georgia;  thence,  turning 


166  LIFE  OF   ROBERT   PAINE,  D.D. 

south-west,  he  struck  the  Alabama  River,  and  had  a  te'Til)le 
battle  with  the  Indian  fort  situated  on  the  river  and  under 
the  noted  chief  Tuscaloosa.  The  Spaniards  call  it  Mau- 
villa ;  it  is  described  as  being  on  the  north  bank  of  the  Ala- 
bama River,  and  about  twenty-five  miles  above  its  junction 
with  the  Tombigbee.  Passing  up  tlie  latter,  he  is  said  to 
have  crossed  the  Black  Warrior  near  where  Erie  now  stands, 
after  a  fierce  battle  of  two  days  with  the  Choctaws.  Con- 
tinuing his  course,  Picket  and  others  say,  De  Soto  crossed  the 
Bigbee — or  Little  Tombigbee — near  Waverly,  in  Lowndes 
county,  Miss.,  not  far  below  the  mouth  of  the  Buttahatchie, 
and  took  the  buffalo  trail  up  the  prairie  region.  The 
Tibbee,  being  the  line  between  the  Choctaws  and  Chick- 
asaws,  enters  the  Bigbee  just  below  where  he  crossed  it ;  his 
way  henceforth  was  among  the  latter  tribe,  and  not  far 
from  the  present  Mobile  and  Ohio  railroad.  This  level  and 
beautiful  prairie,  running  north  for  forty  miles  along  a  well- 
beaten  buftalo  trail,  was  the  best  possible  way  for  his  artil- 
lery and  stock ;  and  upon  reaching  the  neighborhood  of  the 
Chickasaw  'Council  House,'  not  far  from  the  Pontotoc 
ridge,  he  went  into  winter-quarters.  The  place  of  encamp- 
ment was  fertile,  near  the  largest  village  in  the  Nation,  and 
in  the  most  populous  part — abounding  in  maize  and  other 
valuable  products.  The  Spaniards  were  not  likely  to  fore- 
go the  use  of  these  advantages,  and  the  Indians  feared  to 
resent  it." 


BISHOP  OF  THE   M.   K.  CHI  liCII,  SOUTH.  167 


CH  A  PTER    XXIX. 

"Notes  of  Life"  Continued — The  "Vexed  Question" — Pre- 
siding Elder  Controversy — Change  of  Conference 
Lines — Sectarianism — Divorce — Divining  Rod — Religious 
Controversy — James  W.  Fariss. 

THE  influence  of  the  political  agitation  which  ended  in 
the  "Missouri  Compromise"  was  felt  in  the  religious 
assemblies  of  the  people.  The  intensity  of  conviction 
which  causes  good  men  to  make  war  against  a  supposed 
evil  sometimes  gains  its  ends  at  the  cost  of  Christian  char- 
ity. The  price  is  too  much  to  pay  for  any  human  suc- 
cess. One  instance  of  peace  and  quiet  obtained  by  unwor- 
thy means  is  valuable  as  an  indication  of  the  resources  of 
Divine  Providence  in  the  affairs  of  men : 

"This  Conference,  like  that  immediately  preceding  it,  was 
held  in  Nashville,  Tennessee,  and  began  about  October  1, 
1819.  Nor  did  it  differ  materially  in  its  tone  and  temper 
from  it.  If  it  did  it  was  in  its  intensity  of  opposition  to  the 
bestowment  of  orders  and  offices  upon  slave-holders,  and 
those  suspected  of  sympathizing  with  them.  To  such  a  de- 
gree was  this  carried  that,  however  worthy  and  well  quali- 
fied in  other  respects  for  admission  on  trial  or  for  ordination 
as  local  or  traveling  preachers  a  candidate  might  be,  he  was 
sure  to  be  rejected  if  connected  witli  the  great  evil.  It 
mattered  not  though  the  State  laws  forbade  it,  or  any  thing 
else  rendered  it  improper  or  impractica])le.  The  question 
was  not  whether  slavery  was  an  evil,  but  how  to  remedy  it. 
Both  admitted  that  it  was  a  social  and  })()litical  evil,  and  in 
many  ca^es  a  moral  evil,  but  the  South  generally  claimed 


168  LIFE  OF   FvOBEKT  PAINE,   D.D. 

that  it  was  not  evil  per  se,  but  an  evil  inherited — the  only 
proper  remedy  for  it  being  a  gradual  emancipation  under 
the  sanction  of  legislation,  after  due  notice  and  preparation. 
So  stringently  was  the  opinion  of  the  ultraists  carried  out 
by  the  majority  at  this  session  that  a  large  and  able  minor- 
ity felt  constrained  to  sign  a  ^^rotest  against  their  action  and 
forward  it  to  the  General  Conference,  to  meet  the  next  year. 
They  were  T.  L.  Douglass,  W,  McMahon,  Lewis  Garrett, 
T.  D.  Porter,  Barnabas  McHenry,  Wm.  Stribling,  John 
Johnson,  Thos.  Stringfield,  Henry  B.  Bascom,  Benjamin 
Edoje,  and  others.  Of  course  none  of  them  Avere  elected  to 
the  General  Conference.  One  thing  that  served  to  indicate 
the  unfortunate  partisan  feeling  which  pervaded  the  whole 
action  of  the  majority  in  this  affair  was  that  under  their 
influence  at  the  General  Conference,  May,  1820,  the  Ten- 
nessee Conference  was  divided  so  as  to  bring  the  Kentucky 
line  to  the  Cumberland  River  at  Nashville,  and  just  below 
there  across  the  river,  and  thence  west,  thus  throwing  sev- 
eral circuits  and  a  large  territory  out  of  its  proper  relation. 
By  this  process  the  new  Conference  was  larger  and  far  more 
compact  and  desirable  than  the  other,  leaving  the  old  Ten- 
nessee Conference  a  long,  narrow  strip,  reaching  from  the 
Alleghany  Mountains  to  the  Mississippi  River,  with  only 
four  small  districts;  two  of  these  lay  east  of  the  Cumber- 
land Mountain.  Of  course  all  the  delegates,  except  one  or 
two  who  got  presiding  elderships,  fell  into  the  new  Confer- 
ence. This  kind  of  ecclesiastical  gerrymandering  appeared 
wrong  to  some  of  us,  and  I  set  myself  against  it  henceforth. 
The  result,  however,  was,  we  had  peace  afterward." 

The  agitation  which  began  with  James  O'Kelly,  as  far 
back  as  1790  or  1791,  continued,  with  disastrous  results  in 
many  sections  of  the  country,  for  more  than  thirty  years. 
At  first,  Mr.  O'Kelly  desired  that  the  preacher  appointed 
by  a  Bishop  might  have  an  appeal  to  the  Annual  Confei- 


BISHOP   OF   TIIK   M.    E.  CnrKCII,  HOUTH.  1G9 


ence,  wliose  decision  should  be  final.  Failing  to  overtlirow 
Methodist  episcopacy  by  this  measure,  the  next  proposition 
was  a  very  plausible  one,  but  not  less  revolutionary  in  its 
character.  As  the  Bishops  could  not  know  the  wants  and 
necessities  of  every  station  or  circuit,  and  the  capacities  and 
abilities  of  the  preachers  must  be,  in  a  large  measure,  un- 
known to  the  responsible  power  appointing  the  pastors  of 
the  flock,  it  was  proposed  to  make  the  presiding  elder  an 
elective  officer.  The  Bishop  naming  two  or  more  members 
of  the  body,  the  Conference  decided  by  vote  which  of 
these  should  be  a  member  of  the  "  Bishop's  Council."  This 
measure  seemed  harmless  to  many,  but  the  keen  eye  of 
Joshua  Soule  saw  in  it  the  enterino;  wedo-e  for  the  destruc- 
tion  of  the  whole  economy  of  Methodism.  In  this  view  of 
the  subject  Bishop  McKendree  concurred,  and  the  firm, 
heroic  conduct  of  these  two  men  preserved  the  constitution 
of  the  Church. 

"The  third  delegated  General  Conference  of  our  Church 
began  May  1,  1820,  in  Baltimore,  Maryland,  and  was  dis- 
tinguished by  several  important  events.  Robert  R.  Roberts 
and  Enoch  George  had  been  elected  and  consecrated  Bish- 
ops at  the  previous 'General  Conference  in  1816,  as  Willian^ 
McKendree  had  been  at  the  first,  held  in  John  Street,  New- 
York,  in  1812. 

"The  decease  of  Bishop  Asbury,  in  1816,  and  the  infirm 
health  of  Bishop  McKendree,  had  devolved  too  much  labor 
upon  the  Bishops,  and  it  was  determined  to  elect  another. 
Joshua  Soule  was  duly  announced  as  elected,  and  the  time 
and  place  of  consecration  were  agreed  upon.  In  the  mean- 
time the  Conference  had  adopted  a  series  of  resolutions 
making  the  presiding  elders  elective,  and  constituting  them, 
by  law,  a  council,  who,  conjointly  with  the  Bishop  presid- 
ing in  the  Annual  Conference,  should  station  the  preach- 
ers.   After  mature  deliberation  and  consultation,  the  senior 


170  LIFE  OF   K013EKT   I'AINF,   D.D. 

Bishop,  McKeudree,  concluded  that  the  delegated  General 
Conference  exceeded  it.s  authority  in  conferring  the  power 
of  selecting  the  presiding  elders,  with  the  right  of  fixing 
the  appointments,  and  thus  to  this  extent  controlling  the 
action  and  superseding  the  power  of  the  episcopacy,  who 
alone  are  responsible  for  the  administration  of  the  disci- 
])line.  Furthermore,  that  such  interference  with  the  right- 
fid  authority  of  the  Bishops  was  an  infringement  of  the  con- 
stitution of  the  Church,  as  set  forth  in  the  restrictions  im- 
posed by  the  convention  on  the  powers  and  privileges  of 
the  delegated  General  Conference  in  its  organization  in 
1808. 

"  From  the  organization  of  the  Church  there  had  been 
some  in  every  session  of  the  General  Conference  in  favor  of 
restraining  or  abolishing  the  power  of  the  Bishops  in  sta- 
tioning the  preachers  and  choosing  the  presiding  elders; 
but  there  had  always  been  a  decided  majority  against  them. 
In  1812  this  majority  had  been  much  smaller.  In  1820, 
after  considerable  discussion,  the  subject  was  referred  to  a 
committee  of  three  from  each  side  to  confer  with  the  Bish- 
oj)S,  and  report.  At  the  first  meeting  of  the  Bishops  and 
c(>mmittee  they  failed  to  agree.  At  the  next  meeting  a 
similar  result  was  likely  to  occur,  but  upon  verbal  expla- 
nations as  to  the  import  of  the  'compromise'  measures 
proposed,  and  from  a  great  anxiety  for  peace,  a  plan  was 
presented  and  accepted  to  quiet  all  parties. 

"  For  reasons  already  stated,  and  others  strongly  set  forth 
by  the  senior  Bishop  and  the  Bishop  elect,  the  latter  declined 
to  be  ordained.  Several  members  of  the  committee,  u])on 
more  careful  examination  of  the  report,  withdrew  their  sig- 
natures, and  the  resolutions  w^ere  suspended  until  tlie  next 
(juadrennial  session.  Of  course  these  resolutions  came  uj) 
ill  1824,  when  they  were  indefinitely  suspended.  In  1828 
tiie   kindred    question   of  lay  representation   received   its 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHUKCH,  SOUTH.  171 


quietus  by  adopting  the  report  of  Dr.  J.  Emory,  chairman 
of  the  committee  on  that  subject.  Thus  the  two  principal 
elements  of  trouble  ^vere  apparently,  and  I  trust  really 
and  forever,  consiijjned  to  rei)ose,  except  in  such  a  constitu- 
tional and  peaceable  way  as  the  interest  of  the  whole  Church 
may  require  modification." 

Errors  in  legislation  ought  always  to  be  corrected  by  the 
authority  that  committed  the  errors.  Resistance  to  law,  how- 
ever unjust  the  law  may  be,  need  not  be  resorted  to,  when 
good  men,  and  Christian  men,  hold  the  reins  of  government. 
An  illustration  of  the  prevalence  of  reason  over  passion  is 
furnished  in  the  following  paragraph : 

"It  was  scarcely  possible  for  the  delegation  from  the 
Tennessee  Conference  to  the  General  Conference  of  1820  to 
escape  the  suspicion  of  unfairness  in  the  division  of  the  work 
between  the  Tennessee  and  Kentucky  Conferences,  since  all 
the  prominent  men  elected  belonged  to  one  party,  and  fell 
into  pretty  much  the  same  region.  It  is  a  good  old  saying 
that  no  man  is  a  fair  judge  in  his  own  case.  Our  personal 
interests  warp  our  judgment.  It  was  thought  to  be  so  in 
this  instance.  A  list  of  the  appointments  and  a  map  of  the 
country  show  this,  as  to  this  point.  Yet  good  men  and 
true  did  it.  The  dividing  line — an  ecclesiastical  isothermal 
Que — while  it  left  Nashville,  with  a  few  miles  above  and  be- 
low, in  the  Tennessee  Conference,  scooped  down  south  of  the 
Cumberland  River  on  both  sides  of  Nashville,  leaving  the 
old  Conference,  as  it  was  called,  a  '  shoe-string  affair.'  So 
strong  and  general  was  the  opinion  that  this  was  unfair 
that  the  next  session — 1824 — corrected  it  at  once." 

In  the  early  days  there  were  not  a  few  "  men  of  high  de- 
gree" who  affected  a  sublime  contempt  for  ^Methodism  and 
I^Iethodist  preachers.  An  amusing  instance  of  this  unseemly 
pride  is  related  by  the  Bislio]) : 

"  ]My  appointment  for  1820-21  was  to  Murfrcesboro  and 


172  LIFE   OF   ROBERT   PAINE,    D.D. 


Shelbyville,  tAvo  flourishing  towns  about  thii'ty  miles  ti}){irt, 
and  seats  of  justice  for  two  of  the  most  populous  and  pro- 
ductive counties  of  the  State.  Each  had  a  population  of 
about  two  thousand,  with  large  public  buildings,  but  in 
neither  was  there  any  Methodist  meeting-house.  In  each 
there  was  a  Presbyterian  Church,  and  regular  preaching  by 
the  same  pastor,  avIio  lived  in  Muifrecsboro,  and  served  them 
alternately.  He  was  a  venerable  minister,  a  witty,  incisive 
character,  wdiose  influence  was  felt  by  his  people  and  the 
community.  His  Calvinism  was  of  the  Hopkinsian  type. 
He  regarded  himself  as  liberal  toward  other  denominations, 
but  had  enjoyed  a  monopoly  of  clerical  honors  and  perqui- 
sites in  that  community  so  long  that  he  felt  almost  instinct- 
ively that  any  other  pastor  there  was  an  intrusion.  It  Avas 
a  long  time  after  I  had  begun  my  Avork  before  he  professed 
to  have  heard  of  me.  I  held  service  of  nights  in  a  large 
unoccupied  old  house,  and  preached  in  the  court-house  on 
Sunday.  A  great  revival  had  occurred  during  the  summer 
before  I  arrived,  and  hundreds  had  professed  conversion  at 
WindroAv's  and  other  camp  -  meetings.  Many  joined  our 
Church,  and  the  excitement  continued  at  our  meetings  in 
the  toAvns  under  my  pastoral  charge.  The  number  and  the 
class  of  attendants  and  professors  were  such  that  it  Avould 
not  do  to  ignore  the  Avork,  or  the  'Methodist  circuit-rider,' 
any  longer.  A  \^ery  formal  visit  A\^as  paid  me — a  short,  pat- 
ronizing talk  was  delivered,  Avith  suggestions  as  to  a  change 
of  the  time  of  holding  my  meetings.  He  had  for  several 
years  past  discontinued  night  services,  except  on  special  oc- 
casions— doubted  if  a  conflict  of  appointments  at  eleven 
o'clock  on  Sunday  Avas  best.  That  had  been  his  hour  so  long 
it  could  not  be  changed.  Of  course  upon  sacramental  occa- 
sions land  my  members  Avould  attend,  although  he  Avas  never 
seen  in  our  meetings.  Union  is  beautiful.  Was  in  favor  of 
revivals,  but  rarely  failed  to  ridicule  them,  unless  some  of 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CllUIlCir,  SOUTH.  173 

liis  ehlei-s,  whose  children  had  hitely  joined  the  Methodists, 
were  present.  Yoiini>:  as  I  was,  I  was  not  so  green  as  he 
thought.     He  was  a  good  man,  but  intensely  sectarian." 

One  of  those  questions  which  concern  the  very  existence 
of  society  receives  the  following  notice  at  the  hands  of  the 
Bishop: 

"  Murfreesboro  was  then  the  seat  of  the  Legislature,  and 
the  court-house,  which  was  my  place  for  preaching,  was  also 
the  place  where  the  Legislature  held  its  sessions.  Both  the 
Senate  and  the  House  invited  me  to  act  as  chaplain,  and  I 
therefore  continued  to  use  it  as  a  church  during  the  whole 
time.  It  was  during  one  of  these  years  that  a  very  large 
number  of  petitions  for  divorce  was  presented.  Among  the 
rest,  and  at  the  heading  of  the  list,  was  one  from  the  ex- 
Governor  of  the  State — Mims,  I  believe.  The  Speaker  of 
the  House,  Sterling  Brewer,  was  a  prominent  Methodist — a 
number  of  the  members  of  both  houses  had  professed  re- 
ligion during  a  revival  at  that  session,  Felix  Grundy  among 
them.  The  Assembly  'conscientiously  hesitated  to  take  up 
the  question  of  divorce,  and  the  Speaker  addressed  me,  by 
request  of  the  body,  to  preach  expressly  upon  the  subject, 
and  I  could  not  refuse  to  do  so.  Tavo  or  three  days  before 
the  time  for  preaching  upon  the  subject  came,  the  reverend 
and  venerable  Valentine  Cook,  of  Kentucky,  arrived  in  the 
town,  and  at  my  solicitation,  and  the  concurrence  of  the 
Assembly,  became  my  substitute.  Never  did  that  singularly 
powerful  preacher  appear  to  greater  advantage.  Taking 
the  New  Testament  stand-point,  and  explaining  it  clearly 
and  fully,  he  viewed  the  question  in  its  various  bearings, 
and  closed  with  an  earnest  protest  against  all  divorces  out- 
side of  the  sanction  of  the  great  Lawgiver.  The  whole 
batch  of  petitions  was  'non-concurred  in,'  and  I  think  that 
in  Tennessee  that  question  has  been  ever  since  relegated  to 
the  courts.     The  result  has  been,  each  case  has  been  tried 


174  LtFE   OF   ROBERT   RAINE,   D.D. 

upon  its  merits,  a  few  divorces  granted,  and  a  higher  esti- 
mate stamped  upon  the  public  mind  of  the  sanctity  of  the 
marriage  contract,  while  the  time  and  money  of  the  JState 
have  been  saved  for  better  purj^oses."  ^ 

AhN-^ys  and  everywhere  a  student  of  natural  science. 
Bishop  Paine  in  his  early  manhood  had  opportunities  for 
contrasting  the  revelations  of  true  science  with  the  preten- 
sions and  delusions  of  charlatans.  About  the  truth  of  the 
"divining  rod"  as  a  revealer  of  mineral  deposits,  he  pro- 
nounces a  definite  opinion,  and  relates  an  incident  which 
carries  its  own  moral : 

"  Having  just  now  mentioned  two  names,  Valentine  Cook 
and  Sterling  Brewer,  an  incident  which  occurred  five  years 
later  is  vividly  recalled  in  unrolling  that  wonderful  volume 
called  Memory.  I  was  then  the  presiding  elder  of  the  Nash- 
ville District,  and  the  guest,  for  a  day,  of  my  friend  Brewer. 
He  was  no  longer  '  the  Speaker '  of  the  House — had  been  a 
rich  man,  having  a  large  and  valuable  farm,  with  many 
slaves,  several  valuable  houses,  lols,  etc.,  in  towns,  and 
withal  a  liberal  and  consistent  Church-member.  No  man  in 
Dickson  county  was  more  respected.  His  wife  and  family 
were  worthy  such  a  head.  In  the  midst  of  his  prospei'ous 
and  happy  surroundings  a  stranger  obtruded,  and  after  gain- 
ing the  confidence  of  his  host,  uncovered  his  pretensions  as 
a  mineralogist,  and  avowed  his  ability  to  find  metals  an  I 
salt-water  by  the  'divining  rod.'  Every  day  he  might  be 
found  slowly  and  silently  walking  through  the  forests  in  the 
vicinity  of  Brewer's  house.  My  friend  was  noted  for  his 
sound,  practical  sense — a  man  of  affairs,  Speaker  in  tlie 
Legislature  twenty  years,  and  heretofore  successful  in  all  he 
had  undertaken — apparently  the  last  man  to  be  the  victim 
of  superstition  or  imposture.  I  believe  the  element  of  su- 
perstition is,  to  soma  degree,  in  every  man.  It  was  in 
Brewer.     Salt  develo})ed  it.     Gradually  his  strange  visitor, 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  ("iiURrir,  SOUTH.  175 

by  hints  and  \Yinks,  revealed  the  secret  that  there  was  a 
mint  of  ^vealth  oif  his  h\nd  in  salt-water  streams,  which  con- 
verged and  made  a  big  stream  on  tlie  hind  of  Brewer.  Se- 
crecy was  enjoined,  and  a  promise  to  find  it  shortly  after  a 
visit  to  his  family  was  given.  With  perhaps  a  small  ad- 
vance of  money  to  pay  traveling  expenses  and  procure  some 
necessary  utensils,  etc..  Brewer  followed  his  friend  as  he  took 
the  meandering  streams  over  hills  and  valleys,  found  the 
point  where  they  met,  and  where  it  was  declared  the  largest 
amount  of  salt-water  could  be  found  that  was  ever  known  in 
the  South-w^est.  Brewer  marked  the  track  of  these  mysteri- 
ous streams,  and  kept  the  secret  for  some  time.  He  was  not 
yet  converted.  He  got  an  old  settler,  who  had  figured  on 
that  line  years  ago,  to  walk  over  his  land ;  without  knowing 
it,  this  man  confirmed  the  statement  of  the  first  one.  This 
shook  the  solid  frame-work  of  Brewer's  mind.  Salt  was  in 
great  demand.  None  to  be  had  this  side  of  West  Virginia ; 
if  by  a  reasonable  outlay  he  could  settle  the  question,  why 
not  try  it?  Just  then  he  learned  that  Valentine  Cook,  Pres- 
ident of  the  Methodist  College  in  Kentucky,  under  the  au- 
spices of  Asbury — distinguished  for  learning,  piety,  and  use- 
fulness— was  an  expert  in  chemistry,  electricity,  and  kindred 
subjects,  and  believed  in  the  '  divining  rod.'  He  was  invited 
4()  visit  Brewer  and  give  his  opinion.  He  came,  and,  ignorant 
of  what  the  others  had  done,  struck  and  followed  to  their  junc- 
tion the  streams,  and  said  he  believed  that  at  that  place 
there  was  mineral-water — at  what  depth  and  to  what  amount 
it  might  be,  he  could  not  say;  he  believed  there  was  salt 
there.  Brewer  had  begun  to  dig;  he  soon  struck  a  hard 
crystalline  limestone  bed,  and  afler  three  years'  boring — 
reaching  several  hundred  feet — his  auger  broke;  his  farm 
had  gone  to  waste,  his  stores  and  other  real  estate  had  been 
mortgaged,  his  slaves  sold,  and  in  a  few  years  I  buried  him 
from  a   humble   rented  house  in  Nashville.     A    Christian 


176  LIFE  OF   ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 

gentleman  to  the  last — his  memory  honored,  his  surviving 
family  respected,  and  his  large  estate  bankrupt,  or  buried  in 
the  deep  hole  the  'divining  rod'  had  dug.  Standing  with 
him  at  the  fatal  place,  I  learned  these  facts  from  him ;  and 
when  I  asked  him  if  in  those  seven  years  of  ceaseless  toil 
and  anxiety  he  had  come  across  any  mineral-water  of  any 
kind,  he  replied :  '  We  thought  we  found  a  brackish  taste 
once,  after  having  bored  more  than  three  hundred  feet  of 
solid  rock — the  whole  work  was  in  the  same  hardest  crys- 
tallized limestone.  We  were  every  day  hoping  to  find  salt, 
and  never  did;  desperation  followed  this  fascination,  when 
the  auger  broke  near  the  bottom  at  the  depth  of  about  one 
thousand  feet,  and  all  my  means  were  exhausted.'  What  a 
pity  it  seems  that  some  intelligent  mineralogist  or  geologist 
did  not  tell  him  that,  although  salt  is  more  widely  distrib- 
uted than  any  other  mineral,  because  it  is  the  only  mineral 
universally  needed  by  animals  of  the  highest  order,  yet  its 
true  geological  position  is  not  in  such  a  locality.  In  ten 
minutes  he  could  have  learned  at  Vanderbilt  that  it  w  as  use- 
less to  exi3end  his  life  and  fortune  in  the  effort. 

"  For  hundreds  of  years  the  agents  and  the  principles  in- 
volved in  the  'divining  rod'  have  attracted  attention;  the 
wise  and  educated,  as  well  as  the  simple  and  superstitious, 
have  been  excited  about  it.  The  phenomena  claimed  for  it 
have  been  attributed  to  electricity  and  magnetism,  or  as 
wholly  imaginary  self-deception,  while  others  hold  it  all  to 
be  a  bald  imposture.  Nobody  has  sought  to  dignify  it  by 
claiming  it  as  a  science.  It  is  not  sufficiently  sustained  by 
facts.  Like  clairvoyance  and  mesmerism,  but  not  so  strong- 
ly supported ;  feeble  as  is  their  support,  there  may  be  some- 
thing in  it,  but  who  knows  how  much,  or  what  there  is  of 
importance  to  our  race?  The  key  to  unlock  many  of  nat- 
ure's secrets  has  not  yet  been  discovered." 

Writing  in  the  retirement  of  his  own  delightful  home. 


BTSHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  177 

aiul  recalliiii^,  at  the  age  of  eighty-ono,  the  scenes  and  inci- 
dents of  his  early  career,  Bishoj)  Paine  records  his  views 
upon  the  subject  of  religious  controversy: 

"Controversy — religious  controversy  especially — is  gener- 
ally unpopular  at  present,  and  whoever  engages  in  it  is  like- 
ly to  be  discounted.  The  world  calls  it  quarreling,  and 
most  members  of  the  Church  prefer  peace  upon  any  terms 
to  public  discussion  upon  doctrinal  points.  Indeed,  many 
who  belong  to  the  various  denominations  attach  very  little 
importance  to  creeds.  And  while  the  temper  which  prompts 
this  is  to  a  great  extent  highly  commendable,  it  is  to  be  feared 
that  the  underlying  feeling  is  too  often  ignorance  or  indif- 
ference. The  most  intellige'nt  and  earnest  minds  hold  the 
truth  in  the  highest  estimation,  and  are  foremost  in  its  de- 
fense. Biblical  truths  are  of  the  highest  importance,  because 
they  reveal  the  purpose  of  our  existence  and  the  method  of 
attaining  it.  To  apprehend  the  one  and  follow  the  other  is 
therefore  preeminently  our  first  duty.  Too  many,  like  Pi- 
late, ask  in  a  querulous  sj^irit,  'What  is  truth?'  and  like 
him,  without  waiting  or  wishing  for  an  answer,  immediately 
turn  round  to  resume  the  work  of  detraction.  But  while 
we  advocate  both  the  right  and  duty  to  discuss  publicly  the 
fundamental  doctrines  and  institutes  of  Christianity,  we  as 
decisively  oppose  all  personalities,  bitterness,  and  sectarian- 
ism as  unbecoming  the  pulpit  and  the  cause.  The  fact  that 
the  speaker  has  a  monopoly,  and  cannot  be  replied  to  with- 
out an  apparent  discourtesy,  should  restrain  him.  When- 
ever any  thing  but  truth  becomes  the  object,  the  pulpit  is 
perverted.  The  discussion  may  be  earnest,  but  it  must'  be 
respectful.  A  coarse  anecdote,  a  rude  personality,  or  a 
ringing  laugh  do  not  pass  for  logic  or  scripture  in  this 
court.  While  we  gladly  recognize  and  appreciate  the  fact 
that  IMethodism  owes  its  origin  and  its  early  trium})hs  not 
to  its  formularies  as  to  its  polity  or  its  creed,  but  to  its 


178  LIFE  OF  ROBERT    PAINE,   D.D. 

spiritual  elements,  yet  if  it  had  not  been  so  ably  defined 
and  defended  by  Wesley,  Fletcher,  and  others,  as  a  consist- 
ent and  scriptural  analysis  of  Bible  doctrines,  it  would  not 
have  won  its  way  so  rapidly,  and  harmonized  and  crystal- 
lized its  disciples  into  one  great  homogeneous  body.  What 
was  urged  by  the  friends  of  the  great  Duke  of  Marlborough, 
in  pleading  that  his  life  be  spared,  'He  had  fought  a  hun- 
dred pitched  battles  for  England,  and  not  one  against  her,' 
may  be  repeated  for  Wesley  and  his  associates  in  contend- 
ing for  '  religion  pure  and  undefiled,'  Throughout  his  long 
life  he  fought  for  God  and  truth.  The  weapons  of  his  war- 
fare were  not  carnal.  He  held  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus, 
and  gathered  his  implements  from  the  sacred  armory.  It 
was  easier  to  refute  his  logic  than  to  ruffle  his  temper. 
Either  w  as  rarely  done,  although  both  were  often  attempt- 
ed. Christian  polemics  finds  its  brightest  exemplars  in  the 
writings  of  Wesley  and  Fletcher.  The  latter  combined  the 
genius  of  Pascal  and  Junius,  but  surpassed  the  former  in 
suavity  and  the  latter  in  ingenuous  incisiveness.  The  adop- 
tion of  their  writings  as  text-books  in  the  course  of  study  by 
our  fathers  provided  a  literature  scarcely  less  important  than 
the  hymnology  in  which  scriptural  doctrines  were  crystal- 
lized into  sacred  song  by  the  poetic  genius  of  the  Wesleys. 
As  occasion  required,  others  who  were  'set  for  the  defense 
of  the  gospel'  have  come  to  confront  teachers  of  erroneous 
and  strange  doctrines. 

"Many  years  ago,  while  engaged  in  making  appointments, 
I  found  my  advisers  hesitating  to  nominate  a  preacher  for  a 
certain  populous  community,  and  after  awhile  asked  the  rea- 
son. The  reply  was  that  it  was  a  people  so  generally  and 
decidedly  under  the  influence  of  another  doctrinal  belief 
that  it  had  been  thought  best  to  attempt  but  little  there  for 
awhile,  and  that  it  would  be  a  pity  to  send  them  a  very 
l)romising  young  minister — it  looked   like  sacrificing   too 


BISIIOr  OF  THE  M.  K.  CIIURCII,  SOUTH.  170 

much.  Tliis  course  had  been  pursued  several  years.  To 
this  view  I  demurred,  and  asked  my  jiresiding  elders  how 
that  people  were  i!;etting  on,  moi-ally  and  religiously.  '  Very 
badly — liom  bad  to  worse — no  signs  of  improvement.'  Do 
y<Hi  really  believe  their  teachers  are  in  serious  error,  and 
that  i\Iethodist  teachings  are  right  and  are  needed  there, 
and  that  you  have  among  you  preachers  who  are  fully  com- 
petent, or  can  make  themselves  competent,  to  defend  our 
doctrines  and  customs  against  all  opponents?  They  an- 
swered affirmatively.  I  then  made  an  appointment,  and 
enjoined  it  upon  them  to  select  their  best  young  men,  and 
to  induce  them  to  prepare  for  the  defense,  and  in  the  spirit 
of  love  to  enter  the  lists  whenever  challenged.  I  have 
learned  that  they  have  done  so,  and  a  decided  change  of  the 
situation  has  occurred.  In  the  early  years  of  my  acquaint- 
ance with  Methodism,  her  creed  was  bitterly  opposed  and 
her  ministers  derided.  Every  other  denomination  seemed 
united  in  opposing  it,  however  disagreeing  among  them- 
selves. Calvinism,  in  some  form  or  other,  was  dominant, 
and  Methodism  Avas  the  target  at  which  they  all  pointed 
their  artillery. 

"A  controlling  influence  was  persistently  sought  over  the 
jiublic  literary  institutions  of  the  country;  and  they  had 
almost  a  monopoly  of  them.  Hence  almost  all  the  men 
who  attained  eminence  in  political  and  professional  circles 
were  disinclined  toward  our  Church,  and  so  strong  and  gen- 
eral was  this  influence  that  our  children  were  often  ashamed 
of  being  known  as  of  Methodist  parentage,  and  in  many 
cases  w^ere  alienated  for  life  from  our  Church.  A  sense  of 
duty,  therefore,  impelled  our  preachers  to  begin  the  defense 
of  our  doctrines  and  polity  from  the  pulpit  and  press,  and 
by  patronizing  schools  and  colleges  of  our  own.  By  our 
love  fin'  our  children,  our  regard  for  truth,  and  the  highest 
and  holiest  claims  of  piety  and  i)hilanthropy,  we  were  con- 


180  LIFE  OF  PvO.iERT  FATXE,   D.D. 


strained  to  enter  upon  the  strufrgle,  and  to  continue  it  in  every 
fair  and  Christian  way.  In  vain  have  the  schools  founded  and 
sustained  by  the  liberality  of  our  members  and  friends  been 
stio^matized  as  sectarian  in  contradistinction  to  those  created 
and  supported  by  county  and  State  taxation ;  intelligent  and 
impartial  men  cannot  appreciate  the  logic  by  which  the  name 
of  a  thing  changes  its  character,  nor  how  it  comes  to  pass 
that  a  Methodist  who  is  taxed  to  support  a  public  school 
where  Calviuistic  influence  dominates  may  not  also  pay 
voluntarily  for  one  where  no  such  adverse  influence  exists, 
without  being  branded  as  sectarian.  Doubtless  competent 
flnd  faithful  teachers  do  exert  influence  over  their  pupils, 
and  while  no  unfair  means  of  proselytism  are  used  it  is  not 
seriously  objectionable — it  is  the  natural  result  of  the  rela* 
tion  of  the  parties,  and  the  teacher's  merits  are  the  measure 
of  his  controlling  power." 

A  life-like  picture  of  one  of  the  early  heroes  of  Method- 
ism is  given  by  the  Bishop  in  the  following  extract  from 
the  "Notes  of  Life:" 

"James  W.  Fariss  was  a  notable  character,  with  whom  I 
formed  an  acquaintance  this  year.  He  belonged  to  a  large 
family  of  sturdy  citizens,  most  of  whom  were  Methodists, 
residing  near  Winchester,  Tenn.  He  was  then  about  thirty 
years  old,  was  a  farmer,  had  been  lately  licensed  as  a  local 
preacher,  and  had  a  wife  with  several  children.  His  jjhysique 
was  striking — six  feet  high,  broad-chested,  an  athlete  in  form 
and  prowess,  with  a  long  aquiline  nose,  Grecian  profile,  and 
large  gray,  dreamy  eyes.  He  was  retiring  and  reticent,  and 
seemed  to  be  meditative  and  sad.  Nature  had  made  him  of 
her  finest  mold,  and  stamped  him  with  the  signet  for  a  poet 
and  an  orator.  He  was  born  such,  but  sadly  marre<I  in  his 
making  up.  Under  other  circumstances  he  might  have  been 
a  Burns  or  a  Goldsmith.  He  could  not  help  being  an  ora- 
tor.    Before  he  fairly  grew  to  manhood,  and  before  his  con- 


BISHOP  OF  Tin:  m.  e.  church,  south.  181 

version,  he  was  devoted  to  fun  and  frolic,  to  the  violin  and 
dancing.  He  Avas  tlie  leader  on  all  such  occasions.  But  a 
chani^e  came  over  the  sjiirit  of  his  dreams.  AVhile  I  never 
heard  it  reported  that  he  indulged  in  low  and  vulgar  hab- 
its— from  all  which  his  sincere  love  for  his  pious  wife  and 
little  children  saved  him — yet  residing  near  a  town  where 
his  genial  social  qualities  and  his  musical  talents,  ready  wit, 
and  pleasant  manners  rendered  his  presence  desirable  on  all 
festive  occasions,  his  associates  sadly  missed  his  companion- 
ship ;  insomuch  that  when  he  awoke  from  the  delirium  of 
carnal  anmsements,  he  at  once  resolved  to  rid  himself  of 
all  the  allurements  of  his  surroundings.  With  the  simple 
statement  to  his  wife  that  he  was,  as  he  feared,  a  lost  man, 
lie  took  a  Bible  and  left  home.  In  a  recess  or  cave  of  the 
mountain  it  is  said  he  hid  himself,  and  there  in  solitude,  like 
Jacob,  he  wrestled  with  God.  There  he  thought,  read  his 
Bible,  wept  over  his  sins,  and  again  and  again  poured  out 
his  soul  in  importunate  prayer,  having  resolved  not  to  desist 
or  return  until  the  great  question  was  settled.  How  long 
he  staid  I  know  not ;  I  think  several  days.  His  family  and 
friends  became  alarmed,  and  searched  for  him  in  vain.  A 
report  got  out  that  he  had  become  insane.  His  old  com- 
panions could  not  understand  it  otherwise.  No  doubt  the 
retirement  of  Jacob  on  the  memorable  night  of  his  conver- 
sion seemed  unnatural  and  unaccountable  to  his  family  and 
attendants ;  but  he  knew  what  he  was  doing,  and  it  was  the 
crisis  in  his  history,  and  the  wisest  act  of  his  eventful  life. 
Like  Jacob,  he  struggled  with  'the  angel'  until  he  tri- 
umphed, and  could  say,  'I  know  thee,  Saviour,  whom  thou 
art;'  and  then  went  down  the  mountain  to  spend  the  re- 
mainder of  his  life  in  telling  to  others  the  wonders  of  re- 
deeming love.  His  conversion  produced  a  ])rofound  sensa- 
tion throughout  the  country,  and  his  dei)ortnient,  at  once 
so  humble,  zealous,  and  consistent,  gave  great  force  to  hi;' 


182  LIFE  OF   R0BP:RT  PAINE,   D.D. 

efforts  to  do  good.  Sood  after  this  great  change  he  joined 
the  Church,  and  in  due  time  Avas  licensed  to  preach.  Ar- 
ranging his  temporal  interests,  he  entered  the  traveling  con- 
nection, and  after  many  years  of  toil  and  sacrifice,  died  in 
the  Western  District  of  Tennessee,  lamented  and  loved  by 
thousands. 

"  I  have  said  he  was  a  natural  orator,  ^vith  a  meditative 
and  rather  melancholy  .cast  of  mind,  and  a  deeply  devoted 
Christian.  There  were  days  when  he  seemed  absorbed  and" 
disinclined  to  mix  in  society.  He  would  perform  his  duties 
and  retire,  or  remain  silent.  He  prayed  much  in  secret.  He 
was  not  rude  or  unapproachable;  in  his  family  always  gen- 
tle and  forbearing.  To  guile,  envy,  and  malevolence  he  was 
a  stranger.  He  loved  God  and  all  men.  In  his  preaching 
he  was  irregular,  sometimes  commonplace,  generally  enter- 
taining and  attractive,  and  occasionally  almost  resistless. 
He  had  all  the  qualities  and  endowments  of  a  great  orator, 
except  those  resulting  from  mental  culture.  His  fancy  was 
fine ;  his  imagination  of  the  highest  order ;  his  illustrations 
were  strikingly  natural  and  apt ;  his  voice,  like  his  touches 
ou  his  favorite  violin,  of  which  he  was  once  confessedly  a 
tliorough  master,  was  of  great  compass,  gliding  now  sweetly 
and  softly,  the  perfection  of  musical  tones,  and,  as  he  warmed 
in  his  theme,  gradually  swelling ;  and  if  it  involved  the  great 
issues  of  'eternal  judgment,'  his  soul  glowed,  his  features 
assumed  an  expression  of  awe  and  earnestness,  his  form 
rose,  and  his  voice  broke  upon  his  audience  like  the  thun- 
ders of  Sinai  over  the  trembling,  awe-stricken  hosts  of  Is- 
rael. Then  he  was  terrible.  An  instance  of  this,  which 
will  never  be  forgotten  by  any  one  of  the  thousands  pres- 
ont,  was  his  sermon  at  Mountain  Spring  Camp-ground,  Nortli 
Alabama,  in  1829.  His  text  was  'the  barren  fig-tree/ 
The  concourse  was  immense,  made  uj)  mainly  of  awealtliy, 
intelligent,  and  fashionable  pe(.})le.     Tliey  were  hospitable 


BlSIIOr   OF   THE   M,  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  183 

imcl  well-behaved,  but  the  best  efforts  of  the  most  gifted 
preachers  had  failed.  The  prayiiiji^  and  faithful  few  were 
discouraued  and  despondent,  when  Sunday  brought  out  a 
great  multitude.  Fariss  was  ai)pointed  to  preach,  and  hav- 
ing spent  the  morning  in  a  retired  spot  in  the  forest  in  soli- 
tude with  God,  he  entered  the  stand  at  the  minute,  and  be- 
gan the  services.  Slowly  at  first  the  scattered  groups  began 
to  assemble.  The  sweet  song  and  the  short,  fervent  prayer 
settled  and  solenmized  them,  and  the  sermon  began.  It  is 
useless  to  attempt  q,  description  of  the  sermon.  Suffice  it  to 
say  that  as  he  proceeded  the  interest  and  emotions  of  the 
hearers,  and  the  magnetic  power  of  the  preacher  filled  with 
the  Holy  Ghost,  held  the  lately  seething  and  restless  crowd 
as  if  spell-bound  in  soul  and  body,  increasing  in  intensity 
every  minute,  until  he  came  to  the  sentence  denounced  upon 
the  fruitless  tree;  then  summoning  all  his  resources,  and 
unconsciously  personating  the  avenger,  he  began  to  'cut 
doivn.'  Stroke  after  stroke  fell,  and  still  the  glittering 
blade  rose  and  fell,  until  all  classes  of  sinners  and  barren 
professors  were  ruthlessly  hewn  down  and  hurled  into  the 
abysmal  depths  of  unquenchable  burning.  There  was  no 
more  preaching  that  day  or  the  ensuing  night — no  chance 
for  it  nor  need  of  it.  Hundreds  rushed  to  the  altar;  many 
could  not  get  there,  and  therefore  fell  on  their  knees.  The 
tents,  theieiicampment,  and  surrounding  forest  were  full  of 
groups  of  penitents,  and  all  night  long  the  sounds  of  prayer 
and  praise  were  mingled.  Over  two  hundred  were  num- 
bered as  converts,  and  as  many  went  away  to  change  their 
lives,  and  try  to  bear  fruit  unto  eternal  life. 

"Let  it  not  be  supposed  that  the  'terrors  of  the  Lord' 
were  his  favorite  themes,  or  topics,  in  which  his  genius  was 
chiefly  developed.  Divine  love,  as  evinced  in  creation, 
providence,  and  especially  in  redemption,  was  the  subject 
in  which  he  seemed  to  revel  as  a  congenial  element.    Among 


184  LIFE  OF   ROBERT   PAINE,   D.D. 

the  most  vivid  pictures  photographed  on  the  tablet  of  a 
memory  crowded  by  the  incidents  of  a  long  life  is  that  of  a 
short  sermon  I  heard  from  him  at  La  Grange  College,  Aki- 
bama,  about  1831,  while  be  was  in  charge  of  the  circuit. 
It  was  upon  Sunday — one  of  the  coldest  days  of  a  winter 
memorable  as  the  coldest  and  longest  experienced  in  this 
country,  the  thermometer  Hilling  to  ten  degrees  below  zero 
on  the  northern  side  of  my  residence  on  College  Hill.  At 
the  signal  for  preaching  the  congregation  assembled  in  a 
large,  rather  dilapidated  room  upon  the  mmpus — the  chapel 
then  not  finished.  The  Faculty,  students,  citizens  of  the  vil- 
lage, and  several  planters  from  the  beautiful  valley,  filled 
the  house,  while  a  bright  fire  crackled  in  the  wide,  old- 
fashioned  fire-place.  The  earth  had  been  frozen  for  a  week 
or  two,  and  a  fi*esh  snow  and  sleet  storm  had  been  followed 
by  a  cloudless  morning,  with  a  fierce  north  wind,  which 
seemed  to  pierce  to  the  bones  and  marrow  of  the  shivering 
audience.  Not  a  particle  of  an  icicle  melted  under  the  rays 
of  the  midday  sun.  We  crowded  into  the  well-ventilated  old 
room,  and  nobody  objected  to  being  wedged  a  little,  for  Far- 
iss"was  to  preach — and  we  only  hoped  the  talk  Avould  be 
a  short  one.;  if  not  short,  it  might  be  one  of  his  sweet  talks. 
And  so  it  was — short,  sweet ;  and  much  more,  it  was  spark- 
ling, rich,  and  aglow  with  piety.  After  quoting  a  verse  or 
two  of  one  of  David's  inimitable  outbursts  of  miiigled  ado- 
ration and  praise,  which  always  sound  to  me  like  the  cho- 
ral symphonies  of  universal  created  being  to  the  unveiling 
developments  of  the  mysteries  of  God's  providence  and 
grace,  he  repeated  it:  'God  is  good — good  in  all  he  does,  in 
ail  he  allows,  and  in  all  he  does  not.'  Descanting  awhiS 
n[)<)n  his  theme  as  it  is  seen  in  creation  and  in  providence, 
he  seized  the  occasion  to  illustrate  it:  'It  is  cold — very  cold 
-and  so  it  has  been  for  many  <lays.  A  bright  sun  to-Jny 
fitils  to  thaw  the  frozen  earth.     But  we  have  the  sun,  ami 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  18.! 


are  sure  he  ^v^l  ,stay,  and  trhimph  at  last.'     Th^n  began 
one  of  those  bright,  poetic  conceptions  which,  considering 
his  education,  seemed  wonderful.     It  was  inipfomptu— he 
had  perhaps  never  heard  of  Milton,  :M()ntgoniery,  or  Byron. 
*  But  suppose  the  sun  should  fail  to  rise  to-morrow.'    Then 
turning  to  the  planters,  in  substance  he  said:  'Some  of  you 
are  used  to  getting  up  before  day-break  now— you  want  to 
be  ready  to  go  to  work  as  soon  as  you  can.     You  get  rest- 
less, disturb  your  wife  and  children,  and  make  your  negroes 
get  up,  feed  the  stock,  and  prepare  for  work.     The  night  is 
too  long— you  are  greedy  of  big  crops  and  of  money.     Sup- 
pose the  sun  does  not  respond  to  your  old  clock  on  the  man- 
tel and  your  almanac-time.     You  scold  at  the  meddling  of 
some  one  with  the  clock.     All  deny  it.     Another  hour  h 
struck,  another,  and  another,  until  it  is  evident  the  grea 
clock-work  of  the  world  is  out  of  order.'     Then  he  describe* 
the  consternation  and  universal  horror  pervading  and  in 
creasing  as  months  of  darkness  and  despair  succeeded,  unti 
the  snow  filled  the  valleys,  and  the  streams  were  locked  1 
their  fountain-head  with  frost ;  with  fiimilies  isolated   /jc  L 
and  fuel  exhausted,  death  everywhere,  and  the  wail    i  tl  e 
few  helpless  and  hopeless  survivors  borne  over  the  late  y 
crowded  cities;  the  marts  of  commerce  and  the  abt-Zles  of 
wealth  now  voiceless  and  dark  as  the  tomb.     Al^,er  the 
lapse  of  a  year,  suddenly  a  faint  blush  is  seen  in  the  eastern 
horizon,    and  rising  and  spreading,  finally  brigh^-ns  into 
day,  and  every  living  eye  sees  once  more  the  r'sen  king 
of  day.     Then  he  pictured  the  scene,  the  shouts,  the  rapt- 
urous joy,  the  praise  to  Ood  from  every  heart  and  lip— to 
the  Father  of  mercies.     There  was  no  outburst  at  the  close, 
l)ut  a  subdued  and  deeply  impressive  sensation  of  gratitude 
which  tended  to  make  the  sacrifice  of  self  and  the  perform- 
ance of  unpleasant  duties  more  endurable  ever  since.     A 
firm  heliej  in  God's  goodness,  in  his  works  an.]  ways,  has 


186  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 

been  and  is  a  source  of  the  strongest,  purest,  and  sweetest 
comforts  of  my  life.  That  short  sermon  served  to  give  spe- 
cial definiteness  and  force  to  this  truth.  This  singularly 
good  and  great  man  died  prematurely,  leaving  a  large  and 
helpless  family.  He  resided  somewhere  near  the  college. 
We  were  glad  to  give  his  children  what  educational  advan- 
tages we  could.  I  know  nothing  of  them  of  late  years.  I 
am  not  writing  compliments — I  despise  shams  and  preten- 
sions— but  James  W.  Fariss,  wdth  a  few  others,  will  ever 
stand  in  the  picture-gallery  of  my  memory  like  a  column 
of  crystal." 


BISIIOr  OF  THE  M.  E.  CIIUKCH,  SOUTH.  1«7 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

"Notes  of  Life"  Continued-Markiage  of  Ministeus-Ad- 

MINISTRAI ION  OF  DiSCIPLINE-POPULAR  AMUSEMENTS-1^  INAN- 

ciAL  Straits. 

M\NY  men  have  been  seriously  hindered,  and  some  have 
been  ruined,  by  indiscreet  marriages  in  the  early  years 
of  their  ministry.  There  is  much  of  wisdom  and  >vholesome 
instruction  in  these  words :  , 

"In  the  course  of  many  years  I  have  known  several  in- 
stances where  it  looked  as  if  it  would  have  been  better  for 
both  if  they  had  never  been  born.     For  mstance,  ^o.  1 
was  a  promising  young  man-admitted  on  trial  m        — 
Conference;  was  of  a  poor  but  honest  family;  education 
little-    form    and    personal    appearance   faultless;    fluent; 
memory  remarkable;   stock  in  trade,  a  few  flashy  sermons 
thorou^dilv  memorized  and  some  scrap-book  poetry,  a  lit- 
tle theologv;  voice  and  address  agreeable;  amiable  and  re- 
lidous      Traveled  a  backwoods  circuit  his  first  year,  where 
he  met  the  daughter  of  a  large  land-owner  lately  from  :. 
distant  boardiug-school.     She  was  young,  full  of  foncy  and 
romance,  and  was  struck  by  his  superiority  to  the  rustics 
about  there.     Her  father,  devoted  to  his  large  bu^ness  a  - 
fairs,  nominally  a  Methodist,  practically  a  tliorough  world- 
liucr;  her  mother  an  invalid;  neither  had  paid  much  over- 
sight to  her  training,  intellectual  or  moral,  devolving  it  all 
upon  her  instructors  in  distant  fashionable  boarding-schools 
She  was  ricb;  h.r  l)ills,   however  extravagant,  were  paid 
^vithout  a  murnmr;  and  as  she  could  have  ber  own  way  or 
go  elsewhere,  and  the  obsequious  teacher  could  uot  aflordto 


188  LIFE  OF   ROBERT   PAINE,   D.D. 

lose  such  a  prize,  her  education  was  utterly  a  sham.  Leav- 
ing school  in  a  whim,  she  found  her  father  had  removed 
from  the  old  homestead  to  the  distant  West,  and  was  living 
in  temporary  log-cabins  in  the  midst  of  his  large  land  es- 
tate. Here  the  young  preacher  found  her,  and  impressed 
her  as  a  handsome  young  man.  The  attraction  was  mutual. 
Before  the  year  closed  it  was  agreed  to  end  the  romance 
by  getting  married  without  the  knowledge  of  her  parents. 
It  Avas  done,  and  the  proud  father  was  startled  in  the  midst 
of  his  cares  by  the  news  of  their  marriage,  and  the  bedrid- 
den mother  learned  that  her  young  and  heedless  daughter 
had  eloped  with  the  young  preacher.  The  father,  an  ex- 
member  of  Congress — when  to  be  one  was  an  honor — 
though  greatly  surprised  and  mortified,  because  he  knew 
what  a  mistake  they  had  made,  sent  for  them,  gave  them 
a  home  and  some  land  not  far  away;  and  without  re- 
proaching the  young  husband  told  him  to  go  to  work  or 
otherwise  as  he  pleased:  they  had  consulted  no  one,  and 
assumed  their  ability  to  manage  for  themselves;  he  hoped 
they  would  sui3ceed.  The  poetry  of  the  aflliir  soon  wore  off. 
Of  course  he  was  'discontinued'  as  a  preacher — his  pros- 
pective usefulness  ruined,  too  late  he  realized  his  loss  of  the 
r(!spect  of  his  old  friends,  and  his  unfitness  for  association 
with  the  family  into  which  he  had  intruded,  and  had  dragged 
down  the  young  girl  to  a  position  of  mortified  pride.  He 
ceased  to  study — no  one  cared  to  hear  him  repeat  his  few 
memorized  sermons ;  he  knew  little  else,  and  he  faded  away 
like  a  dissolving  scene,  and  its  shadow  rested  upon  all  con- 
cerned, and  charity  drops  a  veil  over  the  end. 

"JN^o.  2  was  a  very  different  young  preacher;  was  of  a 
wealthy,  highly  reputable  family;  his  education  much 
above  ordinary;  his  preaching  abilities  fine;  was  favored 
in  his  appointments,  ])opular,  and  promising  great  useful- 
ness.    Unfortunately,  had  from  the  first  a  special  fondness 


BISHOr  OF  THK   M.  E.  CIIUPvCII,  SOUTH.  189 

ft)!'  the  a)nipany  of  young  hidics — would  seek  it;  ride  with 
them  to  his  appointments;  wait  on  them,  and  hiugh  and 
joke  with  them  to  the  ehureh-door,  and  made  himself  a 
beau  of  a  preaeher.  Soon  got  entangled  in  love  meshes — 
friends  got  liim  out;  but  was  soon  again  involved.  In  a 
year  or  two  was  married  to  a  town  belle;  received  from  her 
father  a  valuable  legacy  in  a  farm.  She  ridiculed  the  itin- 
erancy; a  country  life  too  dull;  sold  the  farm,  bought  in 
town,  and  with  inexperienced  partners  began  merchandis- 
ing; located  to  get  out  of  debt.  Located,  got  deeper  in.  Be- 
came a  bankrupt;  and  after  years  of  trouble  and  sorrow 
was  readmitted,  and  resumed  his  former  work.  Old,  poor, 
and  cast  down,  he  tried  to  do  his  duty,  but  his  life  had  been 
wasted,  and  his  mind  dwarfed.  If  he  had  studied  and  waited 
a  few  years,  and  then  married  a  truly  pious  lady  of  good  com- 
mon senso,  who  would  have  helped  him  in  his  holy  calling, 
he  might  have  become  eminently  useful.  But  he  had  made 
a  mlitake. 

"No.  3  was  the  son  of  a  i)lain  old  Methodist  who,  by 
hard  work  and  strict  economy  upon  a"  farm,  had  secured 
the  means  of  giving  his  only  boy  a  pretty  fair  education ; 
had  been  admitted  on  trial,  and  placed  upon  a  good  cir- 
cuit; was  well  received,  and  gave  promise  of  making  a  use- 
ful man ;  but  a  love  craze  came  upon  him  too  soon,  and  he 
married  an  immature  and  worldly-minded  girl  in  his  sec- 
ond year's  ministry.  The  Bishop  found  it  a  little  difficult 
to  give  him  work  as  a  married  man,  and  fewer  doors  were 
opened  to  welcome  him.  They  could  bear  with  1um,  and 
support  him  as  a  single  man,  but  not  with  a  wife.  While 
alone,  he  could  come  and  go  at  his  pleasure  into  any  house 
of  his  members,  and  required  but  little  attention;  it  was  a 
difterent  thing  when  he  brought  a  lady  into  the  family. 
Some  good  sisters  w(juld  rather  accommodate  two  men 
than  one  woman.     They  fear  the  criticisms  of  their  own 


190  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 


sex.  and  look  upon  a  strange  lady  as  a  detective  in  the 
family.  And  if  the  poor  innocent  should  be  betrayed  into 
retailing  the  gossip  she  has  heard  where  she  lately  visited, 
she  soon  seals  her  own  fate  and  her  husband's  too.  Let  the 
young  minister  resolve  that  he  will  honorably  graduate  to 
the  eldership,  and  clearly  understand  'the  course  of  study' 
j)rescribed  by  the  Church  for  all  candidates  therefor,  before 
he  will  presume  to  look  a  sensible  lady  in  the  face  and  ask  for 
her  hand  and  heart  for  life.  This  is  the  shortest  time.  Seven 
years  of  study  and  labor  was  the  term  of  single  blessedness 
recommended  by  our  fathers,  and  even  then '  to  hasten  slowly ' 
was  a  wise  motto.  Of  course  no  universal  rule  can  be  laid 
down,  but  excejDtions  should  be  few.  It  is  unfortunate  to 
rush  into  the  ministry,  and  equally  so  to  rush  into  matri- 
mony. Ministerial  dwarfishness  and  location,  with  all  the 
attendant  evils  to  the  Church  and  to  themselves,  follow. 
Exceptional  cases  do  occur  where  a  preacher,  even  in  his 
early  ministry,  finds  a  lady  who  will  stimulate  and  aid  him 
in  his  studies,  symjoathize  with  his  efforts  to  be  consecrated 
and  useful,  and  by  her  prudence  and  piety  raise  him  to  a 
higher  plane.  Such  a  wife  is  a  prize  above  rubies.  But 
'pearls  of  great  value'  are  sometimes  counterfeited. 

"Among  other  sad  cases  of  matrimonial  mistakes  was  that 
of  a  good  brother  who  married  an  excellent  widow,  who,  al- 
though his  senior,  would  have  made  him  happy ;  but  her  chil- 
dren, without  cause,  were  bitterly  opposed  to  him,  resulting 
in  a  great  family  disturbance,  and  in  the  violent  death  of 
the  noble-hearted  but  unfortunate  preacher.  Few  ministers, 
like  Wesley,  have  risen  above  the  influence  of  marrying 
badly.  A  good  wife  'is  of  the  Lord' — and  their  name  u 
'legion' — but  a  bad  one  is  a  great  calamity,  not  to  say  a 
curse.  Paul  had  the  right  to  lead  about  a  wife  like  Peter 
— Init  all  tilings  lawful  are  not  at  all  times  expedient." 

The  administration  of  discipline  is  essential  to  the  exist- 


BISHOP  OF  TlIK  M.  E.  CIIURCir,  SOUTH.  191 

euce  of  the  Churcli,  Init  very  much  depends  upon  the  spirit 
in  which  the  h\ws  are  enforced.  The  course  pursued  by  the 
young  preacher  who  afterward  became  the  senior  Bishop  of 
the  Church,  and  the  highest  expounder  of  ecclesiastical  law, 
possesses  much  interest.  Feeble  hands  may  do  much  to  in- 
jure the  cause  of  Christ;  a  vindictive  spirit  will  do  more, 
liobert  Paine  found  the  middle  way  the  path  of  safety: 

"The  Flint  liiver  Circuit,  to  which  I  was  appointed  in 
1818,  was  a  large  one.  All  our  circuits  then  were  large. 
I  was  alone.  It  extended  south  to  Huntsville,  Alabama, 
and  north  to  Winchester,  Tennessee,  with  the  intervening 
and  surrounding  country.  It  lay  in  a  fertile  and  beautiful 
region,  and  was  rapidly  filling  up  with  a  wealthy  and  in- 
telligent population.  It  was  bounded  on  the  east  by  a 
lofty,  unbroken  range  of  mountains  dividing  the  waters  of 
Tennes'see  and  Elk  rivers,  and  constituting  one  of  the  most 
picturesque  and  productive  valleys  in  the  Western  World. 
It  was  a  charming  country,  and  was  occupied  by  a  worthy 
people.  Its  contiguity  to  my  father's  gave  me  the  pleasure 
of  visiting  home  more  frequently.  The  principal  drawback 
Avas  that,  being  in  pastoral  charge,  the  exercise  of  the  dis- 
cipline upon  its  violators  now  devolved  upon  me.  Several 
instances  soon  occurred — the  first  at  F.'s  camp-ground. 

"After  preaching,  and  dismissing  the  audience,  I  proceed- 
ed to  ask  for  the  class-leader  and  the  class-paper,  to  hold 
class-meeting,  with  closed  doors,  as  usual.  The  leader  sug- 
gested that  a  certain  brother  present  had  been  intoxicated, 
and  a  trial  was  needed.  The  membership  was  the  largest 
in  the  circuit;  all  were  present.  A  profound  silence  en- 
sued, while  every  head  was  bowed  in  grief  and  sympathy. 
The  accused  was  under  middle  age,  an  industrious  and  suc- 
cessful young  planter,  who  owned  a  good  little  farm,  and 
was  popular  and  respected.  His  wife,  with  two  small  chil- 
dren, was  there.     She  was  a  cheerful,  tidy,  loving  wife,  and 


192  LIFE  OF   ROllFFvT  FAINE,  D.D. 

an  earnest  Christian.  The  sun  rarely  shone  on  a  liappier 
household.  Their  j^arents,  on  both  sides,  and  nearly  all 
their  kin,  were  present;  for  the  family  were  Methodists,  and 
were  the  bone  and  sinew  of  the  county  as  citizens  and 
Christians.  The  erring  brother  responded  to  the  call  of 
his  name,  pleaded  guilty  to  the  charge,  and  in  subdued 
tones  submitted  his  case.  I  read  the  law — drunkenness  is 
*a  crime  expressly  forbidden.'  I  was  in  trouble — all  were 
troubled.  Must  he  be  expelled?  He  was  a  young  convert, 
and  expulsion  and  degradation  likely  involved  ruin.  I  be- 
gan by  asking  him:  '  Why,  my  brother,  have  you  brought 
yourself  and  us  into  this  fix?  Have  you  any  explanation 
to  give  for  your  conduct?  When,  where,  how  did  it  hap- 
pen?' Then  the  class-paper  trembled  in  my  hand  as  his 
wife's  head  sunk  down  as  if  she  was  crushed,  and  I  broke 
down.  Then  he  raised  his  head  a  little,  and  while  great 
scalding  tears  were  coursing  down  his  honest,  candid  face, 
he  said  slowly,  in  tones  interrupted  by  emotions  too  strong 
to  be  wholly  expressed  bywords:  'I  didn't  intend  it,  broth- 
er. It  wasn't  in  a  doggery;  my  merchant  said  I  needed 
something;  it  was  so  cold — brought  it — now  suppose  it  was 
raw  whisky  or  brandy.  I  never  thought  it  would  turn  my 
head  so.  Never  was  drunk  before.  Can't  help  it  now ;  it's 
over,  and  I  am  ruined.'  Here  he  broke  down,  and  his  poor 
wife  brought  a  low,  long  wail,  like  a  despairing  dirge.  We 
all  broke  down.  '  No,  no,  brother,'  I  said ;  '  can't  you  quitf^ 
'Quit!'  he  replied.  'I  have  quit.  Suppose  you  must  turn 
me  out;  suppose  you  ought  to.  I  deserve  it;  but  do  as  you 
may,  I  will  never  taste  the  thing  again ;  never,  so  help  me 
God!'  And  then  the  wife  shouted,  and  the  elder  child 
climbed  into  his  father's  lap,  and  the  youngest  nestled 
fondly  on  its  mother's  bosom.  The  old  mend)ers  shook 
hands  and  blessed  God,  and  the  young  pastor  thought  he 
saw  day  breaking.     In  conclusion,  I  proposed  that  if  he 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  193 


^vas  truly  j)(iiitcMit,  and  would  then  and  there  join  me  in  a 
solenni  pledge  ncvtr  to  use  intoxieating  liijuors  again,  un- 
less as  medieine,  we  would  forgive  him,  and  say  nothing 
more  about  a  trial.  lie  did  this  at  once;  the  members 
agreed  to  it,  and  this  was  the  first  temperance  society 
I  formed.  I  often  heard  of  him  afterward,  and  learned 
he  had  kept  his  vow,  as  I  have  tried  to  keep  mine  s-ince 
1818.  Methodism  meant  temperance  then.  The  class-leader 
prayed,  all  left  happy,  and  at  a  camp-meeting  held  there 
that  summer  more  than  one  hundred  and  twenty  professed 
religion  and  joined  the  Church.     That  trial  did  good. 

"  But  scarcelv  had  I  ceased  to  thank  God,  and  concrratu- 
late  myself  on  the  hai)py  ending  of  this  affair,  befbi-e  it  was 
whispered  in  my  ear  by  a  trusty  and  tried  class-leader,  the 
recording  steward  residing  in  a  distant  section  of  my  work 
— old  Brother  S. — that  a  similar  but  far  ??iore  serious  case 
had  occurred  in  his  class.  The  greater  importance  of  this 
affair  arose  from  the  fact  that  the  accused  Avas  the  best  ed- 
ucated, most  respected,  and  most  generally  known  of  any 
other  local  minister  in  the  community.  He  was  a  native  of 
Scotland — was  thoroughly  educated  in  Edinburgh  for  the 
ministry  of  the  National  Church,  and  came  to  the  United 
States  at  the  call  of  his  brethren  to  fill  an  important  posi- 
tion. He  landed  in  Virginia,  I  believe,  where  he  entered 
upon  the  duties  of  his  vocation.  His  qualifications  for  the 
position  soon  became  evident,  and  his  success  was  assured. 
New  scenes  and  associations  were,  after  a  short  period,  fol- 
lowed by  his  marriage  to  an  excellent  lady,  a  Methodist, 
and  a  member  of  an  intelligent  and  highly  respected  family. 
Thus  throAvn  into  immediate  contact  with  a  large  and  de- 
voted body  of  Christians  and  ministers  holding  Arminian 
sentiments,  he  awoke  to  the  fact  that  he  was  obliged  to  ex- 
amine a  creed  which,  by  the  number  and  character  of  its 
adherents,  confronted^  and  antagonized  his  own.     Quietly 


194  LIFE   OF   ROBERT   PAINE,   D.D. 

prayerfully,  and  unknown  to  others,  the  piiocess  began.  It 
presently  became  a  serious  matter.  He  began  it,  not  doubt- 
ing it  would  end  in  confirming  his  long-cherished  Calvinist- 
ic  opinions,  and  furnish  him  additional  arguments  against 
Wesleyan  theology.  What  was  his  surprise,  as  he  cautious- 
ly and  slowly  proceeded,  to  find  himself  surrendering  aiid 
receding,  step  after  step,  from  points  he  had  regarded  as 
impregnable,  until  to  his  amazement  his  conscience  com- 
pelled him  to  abandon  the  strongholds  of  unconditional 
election  and  accept  the  system  of  provisional  universal 
salvation.  There  was  no  public  controversy  going  on  be- 
tween the  opposing  advocates  of  the  two  creeds,  but 
in  the  solitude  of  his  library  he  critically,  as  a  schol- 
ar, marked,  weighed,  and  inwardly  digested  the  subject, 
determined  to  follow  his  matured  and  conscientious  con- 
victions wherever  they  might  lead.  The  result'  of  this 
mental  struggle  was  his  conversion  to  Methodist  doctrines. 
Arminius,  Episcopius,  Wesley,  and  Fletcher,  in  their  ex- 
planation of  the  word  of  God,  triumphed  over  Augustine, 
Knox,  and  Calvin,  and  his  mind  was  disenthralled  and 
emancipated  from  the  'Horrible  Decree'  It  followed,  as  a 
matter  of  course,  that  as  his  investigation  had  been  h(mest 
his  action  was  prompt.  He  candidly  reported  his  change, 
was  'relievecr  without  censure,  received  and  recognized  as 
a  minister  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  and  enjoyed 
the  confidence  and  esteem  of  both  Churches  and  of  the 
whole  community.  In  after  years  his  Virginia  friends  in- 
duced him  to  remove  with  them  to  the  West,  and  open 
a  first-class  academy,  Avhere  I  found  him  in  1818,  within 
the  bounds  of  my  work.  He  had  become  a  patriarch  in 
piety,  age,  and  bearing.  His  school  and  that  conducted 
by  Kev.  Thomas  B.  Craighead,  near  Nashville,  Tennessee, 
one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  apart,  were  regarded  as  the 
best  classical  academies  in  all  their  ref-'pective  regions.     Ic 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOI'TH.  195 

iiinny  respects  they  "were  alike — 1)(>tli  ^vel•e  then  far  ad- 
vanced in  life,  had  educated  a  larue  iiuniher  of  the  most 
prominent  members  of  the  community ;  both  had  found  it 
necessary  to  revise  their  creeds,  and  eliminate  therefrom 
the  ultra  Calvinistic  features  of  the  Westminster  Confes- 
sion. The  former  had  found  a  congenial  haven  in  Meth- 
odism, Avhile  the  latter,  I  believe,  did  not  change  his  Church 
relation.  They  were  alike  respected  for  tlieir  piety,  learn- 
ing, and  usefulness. 

"Such  was  the  venerable  man  who  was  reported  by  his 
class-leader  and  life-long  friend  as  having  been  into  ^icated ; 
and  who  desired  to  see  me  and  the  leader  about  it.  We 
went  immediately,  and  found  him  in  bed;  silence  and  sor- 
row prevailed  in  the  house.  His  aged  and  dey  -ted  wife 
and  their  children  kept  their  rooms — they  w^^re  grief- 
stricken  and  stunned;  they  could  not  talk  about  it;  could 
see  no  one.  Our  visit  unlocked  the  fountain,  and  for  awhile 
his  tears  poured  forth  as  from  an  overflowing  heart.  We, 
too,  sat  wdth  bowed  heads,  and  could  not  talk,  while  we 
cried  as  if  over  a  dying  father.  At  last  he  abruptly 
broke  the  silence,  in  substance  saying  to  me :  'I  have  dis- 
graced the  Church — have  been  intoxicated — you  must  try 
and  expel  me.  Nothing  short  of  this  will  do.'  The  ^acts 
turned  out  to  be  these:  He  was  invited  to  celebrate  the 
rites  of  matrimony  between  a  couple  who  were  the  children 
of  two  of  his  friends.  When  the  time  arrived  the  weather 
had  become  intensely  cold,  the  roads  frozen,  and  the  dis- 
tance was  greater  than  he  had  supposed.  Withal,  he  was 
an  inexperienced  horseback-rider;  was  old,  feeble,  and  not 
acquainted  with  the  road.  Of  course  he  lost  his  way,  was 
Belated,  and  after  hiring  a  negro  to  guide  him,  arrived  at 
the  place  several  hours  behind  time.  When  he  got  there 
he  was  so  stiff  and  cold  that  he  had  to  be  taken  down  and 
carried  into  the  house.     To   restore  him  they  gave  him 


190  LIFE  OF   ROBERT   PAINE,   D.D. 


something,  assuring  him  it  would  revive  him  without  hurt- 
ing him.  He  took  it,  sat  near  the  fire  awhile,  and  found 
his  head  in  a  whirl.  ' AVhy,  every  thing  is  turning  round! 
am  I  drunk?'  he  exclaimed.  The  company  assembled  was 
a  large,  wealthy,  and  aristocratic  one,  many  of  whom  he 
had  educated,  and  all  revered  him ;  they  knew  his  Scotch 
integrity  and  Christian  purity  of  life,  and  while  he  wept  in 
repeating,  'I  must  be  drunk,'  etc.,  they  replied:  'No,  it  \h 
vertigo — the  cold  and  fatigue  followed  by  a  hot  fire.'  But 
this  did  not  soothe  his  feelings.  He,  however,  performed 
the  ceremony,  and  after  a  night's  rest  went  home.  Now 
he  demanded  of  me,  as  his  pastor,  a  trial  and  full  punish- 
ment. He  had  dismissed  his  school  in  his  paroxysm  of 
mortified  grief,  had  proclaimed  his  fall,  and  now  the 
Church  must  vindicate  her  rules  by  his  arrest,  trial,  and 
expulsion.  It  was  useless  to  talk  to  him.  So  I  called  a 
committee,  and  he  was  suspended  for  three  months.  He 
protested  against  the  leniency  of  the  sentence,  and  sent  me 
his  certificates  of  ordination,  but  finally  submitted.  The 
time  expired ;  it  was  on  my  preaching-day  there.  I  avsked 
him  to  take  my  place.  The  whole  region  attended,  and 
such  a  sermon  and  such  a  time  as  we  all  had  are  rarely 
witnessed.  He  fell  to  rise  higher  in  public  esteem,  and  has 
long  since  gone  where  misfortunes  and  temptations,  like  sin 
and  sorrow,  are  forever  unknown." 

On  the  subject  of  popular  amusements  Bishop  Paine  has 
left  a  clear  testimony.  Conservative  in  thought,  he  has 
given  no  cause  for  complaint  of  extreme  views.  As  a  calm, 
wise,  and  deeply  interested  observer  of  men  and  things,  his 
views  are  of  great  value : 

"In  going  from  McGee's  to  Huntsville,  in  the  year  181  f), 
on  my  circuit  w^ork,  and  just  as  I  came  opposite  the  Green 
Bottom  Inn,  I  heard  a  great  shout,  and  looking  to  my  left 
saw  an  immense  throng  of  highly  excited  people,  and  at  a 


IJISnOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHUHCII,  SOUTH. 


197 


glance  perceived  horses  dash  off  in  the  direction  I  was  trav- 
eling. It  flashed  upon  nie  that  it  was  the  celel)rated  race- 
track where  the  sportsmen  of  Kentucky,  Tennessee,  and 
North  Alabama  annually  tested  the  speed  and  pluck  of  their 
liigh- blooded  horses.  The  hill,  houses,  and  stages  were 
crowded,  and  such  cheering  and  prolonged  huzzas  had  rarely 
been  heard.  In  a  moment  the  words  'Mine  eyes  sliall  not 
look-on  vanity'  occurred  to  me;  and  although  the  swift 
coursers  in  making  the  circle  ran  so  near  me  that  I  could 
hear  the  clatter  of  their  feet  and  the  breathing  of  the  pant- 
ing and  struggling  fliers,  I  kept  steadily  on  my  way  without 
l)ausing  or  stealing  a  glance  at  them. 

"  Is  it  asked  what  harm  it  would  have  been  if  I  had  done 
otherwise?     Would  it  have  been  sinful?     Is  racing  a  sin? 
I  do  not  say  that  running,  or  simple  racing,  is  a  sin,  or  that 
looking  at  a  race  is  of  itself  such,  especially  if  it  be  acci- 
dental ;  but  I  do  unequivocally  say  that  the  race-course  is 
the  theater  where  one  of  the  worst  kinds  of  gambling  is 
practiced,  and  that  all  abettors  of  it  are  practically  contrib- 
uting to  debauch  public  sentiment.     Bets  are  often  made  on 
trials  of  speed  a  year  or  more  in  advance;  the  mind,  heart, 
and  body  are  i^reoccupied  and  engrossed.     I  have  known 
sportsmen,  while  with  heavy  bets  pending  and  horses  in 
training  for  the  coming  contest,  to  become  religiously  im- 
pressed ;  but  few  of  them  have  yielded.     The  very  fact  that 
they  had  committed  themselves  to  a  race  for  a  large  sum 
utterly  discouraged  all  serious  efforts.     The  excitement  con- 
tinues so  long,  the  associations  and  fascinations  are  so  dan- 
gerous, and  the  temptations  to  other  and  kindred  vices  so 
strong,  that  the  life  of  the  sportsman  is  like  walking  by 
moonlight  over  a  bridge  full  of  holes— where  one  crosses 
safelv  a  hundred  fall  through.     Grant  something  may  be 
true  which  is  claimed  for  it,  as  to  improving  certain  rpial- 
ities  of  the  horse,  the  employment  it  gives  to  labor,  the 


J98  LIFE   OF   ROBERT   PAINE,   D.D. 

people  it  brings  to  the  hotel  and  public  carrier  interests,  and 
the  recreation  it  affords  to  the  masses  Avho  attend,  backed 
and  countenanced  by  legislators,  judges,  the  queens  of  beauty, 
fashion,  and  wealth,  fi-om  the  empress  to  the  canaille — still, 
candor  compels  the  verdict  that  the  evil  infinitely  tran- 
scends the  benefit.  The  benefit  is  largely  imaginary,  the 
evil  real  and  far-reaching.  The  gambling  like  the  drink- 
ing proclivity  is  a  morally  unhealthy  one,  needing  restraint 
the  more  because  it  originates  in  a  perverted  and  depraved 
appetite.  Whether  we  regard  the  kings  of  the  turf,  the  in- 
fluence they  naturally  exercise  over  their  own  families,  es- 
pecially their  sons  and  sons-in-laAV,  over  their  associates,  re- 
tainers, trainers,  stable-boys,  and  the  long  retinue  of  flatter- 
ers, loafers,  and  worn-out  specimens  of  humanity ;  the  diver- 
sion it  fosters  adverse  to  piety,  purity,  and  intellectual  cult- 
ure, leaving  out  of  view  the  pecuniary  investment  in  it,  and 
which  cannot  be  readily  turned  into  other  and  useful  enter- 
prises without  heavy  loss ;  all,  and  more,  unite  to  condemn 
the  race-track  as  exceptionally  objectionable — a  gigantic 
gamble.  Under  the  most  favorable  surroundings,  it  works 
evil.  The  fictitious  importance  it  confers  upon  the  least 
valuable  quality  of  the  horse  is  overwhelmingly  counter- 
ba  lanced  by  its  degrading  effects  upon  the  noblest  attributes 
of  manhood.  And  this  applies  alike  to  aristocratic  Epsom 
Derby  and  the  quarter-mile  extemporized  race  at  the  dilap- 
idated village  for  a  quart  of  contraband  whisky — Avith  the 
exception  that  the  former  is  worse  in  proportion  to  its  as- 
sumed greater  respectability.  Imagine  a  race-visiting  cler- 
gyman preaching  on  Sunday  to  an  audience  he  has  been 
meeting  the  entire  week  previously  on  the  race-track!  Is 
he  not  beset  with  the  echoes  of  the  shouts,  the  ribald  jests, 
profanity,  and  drunken  craziness  of  his  associates,  even  when 
in  soft  tones  of  mock  penitence  he  distributes  to  them  the 
sacred  symbols  of  the  Last  Supper,  and  when  renouncing 


iJi^iior  OF  THE  M.  K.  (HI  lan,  suLTir.  ]1>9 

*  the  devil  and  all  his  works,  the  vain  pomp  and  glory  of 
the  world,'  and  vowing  'not  to  follow  or  be  led  by  them?' 
Must  not  the  actors  in  this  scene  laugh  in  each  other's  faces, 
the  first  time  they  meet  afterward,  at  the  remembrance 
of  their  sublime  impudence?  Is  this  Liberalism — Broad- 
church  Chi'istianity  ?  Liberal  enough  for  the  Roman  soldier 
who  gambled  for  Christ's  vesture  at  the  foot  of  his  cross, 
and  broad  enough  for  the  rich  man  who  went  to  hell. 

"  But  what  of  dancing  and  the  theater?  AVill  the  Church 
prohibit  its  members  from  amusements?  Certainly  not. 
Bational  and  innocent  amusements  may  often  be  needed, 
and  are  proper.  Our  Heavenly  Father  does  not  stint  us. 
He  is  profuse.  All  paradise  was  given  with  one  reservation. 
That  was  a  test  case.  The  only  thing  prohibited  was  a  thing 
not  necessary  to  existence,  to  true  happiness,  or  the  highest 
end  of  life.  Of  every  thing  else  they  might  freely  and  fully 
partake.  The  new — the  'good,  very  good'— world,  with  all 
its  beauty,  sublimity,  and  stainless  purity,  lay  before  them, 
the  free  gift  and  pledge  of  their  great  Father's  love.  It 
was  theirs  to  have,  to  hold,  and  enjoy.  With  all  this  was 
the  bestowment  of  attributes  adapting  them  perfectly  to  ap- 
prehend and  enjoy  their  munificent  surroundings.  Within 
the  vast  circumference  of  these  various  pursuits  and  pleas- 
ures all  was  natural  and  innocent;  but  as  every  gift  carries 
with  it  obligation,  and  every  law  implies  and  involves  duties 
to  be  enforced  by  penalty,  so,  as  a  recognition  of  this  uni- 
versal principle,  a  prohibition  was  announced  as  a  test  of 
love  and  fealty,  to  disregard  which  is  sin.  It  mattei*s  not 
what  that  duty  or  test  may  be,  if  the  Supreme  Lawgiver 
authoritatively  imposes  it  as  such,  it  is  sin  to  disregard  it. 
The  simpler  and  easier  the  condition,  the  less  is  the  excuse 
and  greater  the  sin  of  its  violation.  The  magnitude  of  the 
offense  is  deteruiiucd  by  the  authority  of  the  law.  The  in- 
spux'd  oracles  denounce  'reveling,  banqueting,'  'the  lusts  of 


200  LIFE  OF   ROBERT   PAINE,   I.>.D. 

the  flesh  and  of  the  eye,  and  the  pride  of  life ; '  it  demands 
bearing  the  cross,  self-denial,  humility,  and  to  do  '  whatever 
we  do  to  the  glory  of  God.'  While  neither  the  Bible  nor 
the  Church  prescribes  specifically  and  by  name  every  duty 
or  denounces  every  error,  resolving  and  comprehending 
many  of  them  in  great  princij^les,  the  distinctions  are  so 
clear  and  plainly  laid  down  as  to  be  apparent  to  the  discern- 
ment of  the  spiritually-minded  inquirer.  It  is  not  dancing 
for  health  or  recreation,  nor  dancing  in  the  abstract — if 
there  be  such — but  dancing  in  the  concrete,  promiscuous,  of 
the  sexes  in  close  contact ;  the  familiar  handling,  dangling, 
caressing,  the  indelicate  posturing,  the  personal  liberty  taken 
and  submitted  to  as  naturally  understood  in  the  programme 
of  the  dance-room — all  these  kej^t  up  to  the  '  wee  hours  of 
the  night ' — it  is  these,  and  the  like,  which  go  to  condemn 
these  orgies  as  injurious  to  health,  and  inconsistent  with  re- 
fined feminine  sensibility  and  the  genius  of  Christianity. 

"  It  is  not  assumed  that  there  are  not  greater  evils  than 
dancing,  or  that  some  who  oppose  it  may  not  have  a  '  beam ' 
who  find  a  '  mote ; '  nor  is  it  denied  that  young  and  timid 
ladies,  Avho  find  themselves  unexpectedly  in  a  parlor  where 
they  must  join  in  a  dance,  or  be  the  'wall-flowers'  of  the 
circle,  reluctantly,  and  fi'om  a  want  of  moral  courage,  yield 
to  temptation.  They  are  perhaps  as  much  to  be  pitied  as 
blamed  for  the  offense ;  but  if  they  freely,  and  from  love  of 
it,  persist  against  persuasion,  remonstrance,  and  repeated 
pastoral  w^arning,  and  reasonable  waiting  for  reflection,  the 
result  seems  inevitable — the  formal  relation  dissolved  as  the 
spiritual  has  already  been.  Whoever  loves  worldly  i:)leas- 
nres  more  than  Christ  is  no  Christian ;  and  the  fashionable 
dance,  and  the  delight  in  it,  as  clearly  discriminates  between 
the  'flesh  and  the  spirit'  as  any  thing  I  know  of.  The 
Churcli,  following  the  Master,  has  prohibited  it.  Every 
Clu-istian  denoiiiiuation  in  the  country,  throuLdi  its  liighest 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  201 


officials,  has  condemned  it ;  and  if  they  liave  ftiiled  to  con- 
form their  judicial  acts  to  their  protestt^,  we  may  regret  it, 
but  cannot  imitate  them.  As  INIetliodists  we  may  not  al- 
ways have  been  blameless,  but  I  think  I  can  safely  say  that 
horse-racing,  the  liquor  traffic,  theater-going,  and  dancing- 
all  of  which  belong  to  the  same  category  —  when  properly 
dealt  with,  will  dissolve  Church-membership  when  properly 
brought  into  the  Church-court. 

"  In  this  exercise  of  official  duty  it  is  especiallv  proper 
that  there  be  no  rash,  hasty,  or  injudicious  action.  While  we 
dare  not  silently  see  the  Church  lapse  into  worldliness  with- 
out trying  to  prevent  it,  we  cannot  afford  to  diminish  our 
influence  as  under-shepherds  of  a  gentle  and  loving  Chief 
Pastor. 

"To  all  this  it  may  be  said  the  tendency  of  the  time  is 
drifting  the  Church  into  the  world,  and  it  cannot  be  pre- 
vented. So  much  greater  is  the  necessity  to  resist  it  now, 
before  it  is  too  late.  What  surprises  me  most  is  that,  our 
members  need  restraint  in  these  things.  After  my  conver- 
sion I  had  no  taste  for  them.  Love  and  gratitude  to  my 
Lord  cured  me  for  life  of  the  desire  for  sinful  and  doubtful 
amusements.    A  thorough  change  of  heart  ought  to  do  this." 

Few  IMethodist  preachers  have  escaped  the  knowledge  of 
financial  embarrassments.  The  small  sums  allowed  to  the 
preachers  in  the  early  days  were  often  insufficient  to  supply 
the  necessaries  of  life.  The  helping  Providence  is  seen  in 
the  following  narrative  of  Bishop  Paine  : 

"  My  field  of  labor  presented  some  serious  discouragements 
during  the  first  half  of  the  year.  I  was  not  only  without 
acquaintances,  but  my  circuit  was  very  large,  deficient  in 
roads  and  bridges;  accommodations  and  ordinary  comforts 
greatly  needed,  as  usual  in  new  settlements,  while  I  had 
twenty-eight  appointments  to  fill  monthly,  from  fifteen  to 
twenty-five  miles  apart.     During  the  winter  of  1819-20  and 


202  LIFE   OF   KOBEKT   FAINE,    D.I). 


early  spring,  I  was  much  exposed  to  the  weather,  and  was 
near  bein":  drowned  on  several  occasions  while  swininiinir 
streams  to  reach  ray  preaching-places.  For  all  this  I  felt 
amply  compensated  by  the  warm-hearted  hospitality  of  tlic 
])eople,  and  by  the  consciousness  of  trying  to  do  my  duty. 
Yet  I  now^  think  that  in  some  of  these  hazardous  exposures 
I  was  mistaken  as  to  duty.  Before  the  year  had  half  ex- 
],ired  my  finances  were  exhausted,  and  it^  flashed  upon  me 
while  crossing  a  little  prairie  between  Erie  and  Greensboro, 
skirted  by  trees  draped  in  long  moss,  that  I  wtis  a  penniless 
stranger  hundreds  of  miles  from  home,  too  proud  to  beg  and 
unal)le  to  dig.  The  fact  Is,  I  thought  I  had  left  my  father's 
with  money  enough  to  pay  my  way  for  more  than  a  year ; 
hut  my  traveling  expenses,  clothing,  horse-shoeing,  and  other 
things,  had  cost  a  good  deal  more  than  in  Tennessee,  and 
having  neglected  to  write  home  in  time,  I  had  suddenly  beou 
startled  with  the  discovery  of  my  banki'uptcy.  I  have  a 
distinct  recollection  of  my  feelings.  I  stopped,  looked 
through  my  collapsed  pocket-book  to  find  it  innocent  of  con- 
cealing a  single  cent.  What  now  ?  Shall  I  go  on,  getting 
farther  away  from  home,  try  to  get  back  to  Tuscaloosa,  bor- 
row money  there  to  get  home  on,  and  then  return  to  my 
circuit  ?  If  so,  all  my  appointments  fall,  and  I  have  to  go 
around  to  make  new  ones.  Besides,  friends  and  foes  will 
say  1  deserted  my  post;  and  then  I  remembered  that  a  bold, 
bad  man,  living  on  the  north  fork  of  the  Warrior,  had  sent 
me  word  that  if  I  preached  there  again  he  would  certainly 
beat  me  badly.  I  confess  this  threat  determined  me.  / 
irould  not  go  away  under  a  threat.  I  turned  away  to  trust 
Providence  for  the  money  and  do  m.y  work.  The  stewards 
liad  neglected  their  duty,  l)ut  without  begging  it  I  got  tlie 
means  from  an  unexpected  source  the  next  day,  and  staid. 
I  am  glad  I  did.  The  money  came  in  this  wise:  About 
buiiset  on  the  day  just  alluded  to  I  rode  up  to  a  cabin  hav- 


lUSIIOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  203 

iiig  only  one  room,  an<l  upon  asking  the  name  of  the  owner 
was  confronted  by  a  very  large  lady  who  gave  the  name 
where  Brother  E.  Hearn  had  informed  me  he  had  made  an 
ajipointment  for  me  to  preach  on  the  next  day.  I  asked  the 
lady  if  there  was  such  an  appointment.  She  did  not  know — 
had  heard  the  old  man  say  something  about  it;  but  he  and 
the  boys  were  off  on  a  bear-hunt — might  be  home  some  time 
that  night,  or  might  not.  Told  her  I  received  notice,  and 
upon  his  invitation  I  had  come  to  preach.  She  looked  some- 
what bewildered,  and  I  felt  a  good  deal  so.  The  only  house 
I  saw  was  that  one ;  it  was  unfinished ;  a  half  dozen  children 
crowded  the  door.  The  boys  and  the  old  man,  with  those 
present,  must  fill  it.  It  looked  like  a  downright  imposition 
to  obtrude;  but  what  could  I  do?  Night  was  upon  me.  I 
was  a  stranger — did  not  know  the  roads  nor  the  neighbors, 
if  there  Avere  any.  Could  she  tell  where  I  could  go?  But 
she  was  a  new-comer — did  not  know.  Still  sitting  upon  my 
tired  horse  and  looking  around  for  a  road,  she  said  I  was 
welcome  to  stay  if  I  could  make  out  to  do  so ;  but  there  was 
no  place  nor  any  food  for  my  horse,  except  a  little  corn 
which  was  used  for  bread  after  being  pounded  in  a  wooden 
mortar  by  a  wooden  pestle  or  beater.  How  gratefully  1 
accepted  the  conditions!  blistered  my  shoulders  carrying 
heavy  rails  to  make  a  pound  for  my  horse;  and  how  long  I 
belabored  those  flinty  grains  of  corn  into  meal,  and  how 
soundly  1  slept,  the  deponent  saith  not.  Next  day  a  dozen, 
more  or  less,  came  out.  The  old  man  had  got  home  before 
midnight  and  fixed  seats ;  and  as  I  began  service  a  tall  and 
elegant  lady  came  in,  and  after  preaching  had  closed,  intro- 
duced herself,  and  invited  me  in  the  name  of  her  husband 
to  spend  the  nighty  with  them,  and  that  at  my  next  round  I 
should  preach  at  their  house.  ^ly  host  and  his  wife  con- 
senting, I  promised  to  do  so.  When  leaving  there  next 
morning  to  cross  the  Alabama  T\ivcrat  Cahaba,  a  five-dollar 


204  LIFE  OF   ROBERT   PAINE,   D.D. 


gold  2^iece  was  left  iu  my  hand  by  Mrs.  Matthew  Garey. 
That  was  enough  ;  it  woukl  pay  my  way  across  the  river  and 
until  my  stewards  should  awake  to  the  fact  that  they  had 
forgotten  their  duty." 


BISHOP  OF  Tin:  M.  K.  (  lllUlfll,  SOUTH.  205 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

"Notes  of   Life"   CoNTixrEo — Kemoval   of   Indians — Holy 
Living — Sketch  of  Bishop  Lascom — Church  Polity. 

THE  attitude  of  the  Government  toward  theLidian  tribes 
has  employed  the  pens  of  many  wise  and  benevolent 
persons,  who  have  deplored  the  resort  to  the  im})lements  of 
"warfare  and  death  as  means  of  controlling  and  subduing 
the  red  men.  Bishop  Paine  furnishes  us  with  a  plain  state- 
ment relating  to  two  of  the  Indian  tribes : 

"  The  winter  of  L540-41  proved  to  be  unusually  long  and 
severe,  and  the  Spaniards  drew  heavily  upon  the  Indians  for 
supplies — they  accused  their  red  friends  of  having  retaliated 
by  taking  their  hogs.  De  Soto  is  said  to  have  carried  a 
good  many  hogs  with  him  to  meet  emergencies,  and  the  In- 
dians had  now'  learned  to  appreciate  this  kind  of  food.  A 
large  part  of  this  tribe  still  lived  on  the  East  Tennessee  and 
West  Virginia  highlands,  although  they  had  many  villages 
in  what  has  long  been  known  as  the  '  Chickasaw  Old  Fields.' 
In  the  spring  of  L541  De  Soto,  wishing  to  continue  his  march, 
demanded  two  hundred  able-bodied  Indians  to  assist  in  car- 
rying his  baggage  and  artillery  to  the  Mississippi  River,  but 
they  refiised  to  obey.  A  battle  followed,  both  parties  suf- 
fered terribly,  and  the  Spaniards  were  compelled  to  leave, 
much  crippled  and  discouraged.  They  are  thought  to  have 
struck  the  great  river  at  the  '  Chickasaw  Bluffs,'  near  Mem- 
l)his.  Crossing  the  Mississippi,  they  are  believed  to  have 
wandered  over  the  highlands  of  Arkansas,  and  seen  the  Hot 
Springs,  but  not  finding  the  El  Dorado,  to  have  gone  down 
to  the  ^lississippi  about  Helena,  where  De  Soto  died. 

"This  whole  affair  seems  like  a  romance,  but  there  are 


206  LIFE  OF   ROBERT   PAINE,   D.D. 


many  things  which  prove  the  main  facts  upon  whicli  the 
story  rests.  See  Pickett's  *  History  of  Ah\bama'  and  'J.  F. 
H.  Claiborne's  Mississippi.'  Other  invasions  of  this  country 
by  Spaniards  and  French  at  different  periods  occurred,  in 
all  of  A'hich  these  two  great  tribes  maintained  their  reputa- 
tion as  warriors  and  statesmen,  having  never  been  con- 
quered or  driven  by  military  force  from  their  early  homes. 

"  There  are  two  points  in  this  question  as  to  the  treatment 
of  the  Indians  by  the  United  States  Government  upon  which 
I  wish  to  make  remarks  before  I  close  it.  Of  the  general 
subject  I  say  nothing,  because  I  know  but  little,  but  con- 
fine myself  to  these  two  tribes.  I  knew  a  good  deal  about 
them  before  they  went  west  of  the  Mississippi,  and  have  vis- 
ited them  repeatedly  since — staid  with  them  for  weeks  at  a 
time,  held  conferences  with  them,  preached  to  them,  and  talked 
freely  with  them.  They  left  Mississippi  and  Alabama  reluc- 
tantly ;  with  many  it  was  a  great  and  sore  trial ;  but  their 
'heads'  and  'chiefs'  saw  it  must  be,  or  they  were  to  be  wor- 
ried almost  to  death  and  at  last  compelled  to  go.  Think- 
ing they  might  get  a  reliable  guaranty  by  an  exchange,  in 
which  they  would  2^<^y  for  their  new  home,  and  get  clear  of 
being  further  disturbed,  they  finally  consented  to  remove. 
I  believe  the  agreement  was  to  allot  to  each  Indian  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  land  wherever  he  might  claim  it.  It  was 
all  to  be  surveyed,  and  publicly  sold  to  the  highe  t  l):dder, 
and  the  Indian  to  receive  the  whole  amount.  After  ever/ 
claim  had  been  thus  settled,  the  remainder  of  land  was  given 
to  the  United  States.  In  consideration  for  this  the  Indians 
were  to  be  transported  at  the  expense  and  undei*  the  j)ro- 
tection  of  the  United  States — were  to  have  a  guaranty  title 
to  a  much  larger  quantity  of  land  west  of  the  Mississipi)i 
Kiver  and  a  considerable  annuity.  The  land  here  general- 
ly sold  for  its  fair  value.  I  know  it  did  in  the  Chickasaw 
Nation,  as  I  have  lived  upon  it  over  thirty  years,  and  doubt 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CIIUPwCH,  SOUTH.  207 

if  to-day  it  could  be  yold  for  more  than  was  then  paid 
for  it. 

"Specidators  and  j)reten(h'd  friends  doubtless  cheated 
individual  Indians,  but  I  do  not  believe  the  Government 
did.  Ui)on  the  ^vhole,  I  think  the  removal  of  the  Chick- 
asaws,  Creeks,  Cherokecs,  Choctaws,  Delawares,  ^Vvan- 
dots,  and  Shawnees,  and  the  other  tribes  that  settled  down 
quietly  to  agricultural  life,  has  so  far  been  a  blessing  to 
them.  It  is  my  decided  conviction  that  too  large  a  terri- 
tory is  not  favorable  to  their  best  interests.  Enough  for 
cultivation  and  stock-ranging,  and  room  for  natural  in- 
crease, and  for  those  who  cannot  be  expected  to  suddenly 
suppress  their  hunting  proclivity,  must  be  yielded  to  them. 

"  Gradually,  as  the  wild  game  disappears,  and  they  ad- 
vance in  civilization  and  piety,  they  cultivate  the  soil  and 
cease  to  roam  and  hunt.  Most  or  all  of  the  tribes  enumerat- 
ed have  realized  this  fact,  and  are  acting  conformably.  But 
let  the  Government  keep  faith  Avith  them — drive  off  intrud- 
ers, protect  them  from  liquor-sellers,  qualify  them  for  citizen- 
ship, and  maintain  them  in  all  their  rights. 

"Of  course  no  people  will  work  for  a  living  if  others 
will  feed  them.  They  must  have  help,  but  must  help 
themselves  too.  Help  which  comes  without  need  and  co- 
operation is  a  premium  for  idleness  and  vagabondism.  If 
those  tribes  which  have  more  land  than  they  find  necessary 
will  contract  their  limits,  and  not  factiously  oppose  the  open- 
ing of  railroads  w'here  the  interests  of  society  require  them, 
and  the  Government  will  sternly  protect  them,  then  may  we 
confidently  look  for  their  elevation.  The  preacher  and  the 
teacher  will  then  have  a  fiiir  field." 

As  the  shadows  were  falling  at  the  serene  sunset  of  life, 
Bishop  Paine  reviews  the  past,  and  recalls  the  experiences 
of  his  early  days  concerning  the  subject  of  holiness: 

"Cicero  and  others  have  moralized   beautifully  on  the 


208  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,  D.D. 

subject  of  old  age — the  serene  retrospect  of  a  virtuous  and 
useful  life;  but  to  the  Christian  whose  standard  is  the  "svord 
of  God,  and  whose  conscience  demands  a  high  degree  of 
purity  of  purpose,  and  a  consecration  of  life  to  the  noblest 
capabilities  of  his  being,  there  is  little  ground  for  self-com- 
mendation. How^ever  conscious  he  may  feel  of  having  in- 
tended to  do  right,  he  cannot  but  be  aware  of  having  often 
failed  in  his  manner  of  doing  it.  The  holiest  are  the  hum- 
blest and  most  grateful.  It  is  natural  for  the  aged  to  dwell 
upon  the  past,  and  it  is  fit  for  them  to  be  thankful  for  the 
grace  and  the  fostering  providence  which  have  guided  and 
preserved  them;  but  'pride  was  not  made  for  man,'  and  we 
need  daily  prayer  for  'preventing  grace'  and  pardon. 

"In  looking  back  over  my  life's  work,  no  year  has  left  its 
mark  upon  my  memory  more  indelibly  than  this.  I  was  in 
a  mission-field,  a  stranger  far  from  home ;  the  country  was 
new,  comforts  few,  rides  long,  and  my  labors  taxed  all  my 
time  and  energies.  The  formation  of  the  'Missionary  As- 
sociation,' my  trip  to  the  Indian  Territory,  my  illness  among 
them,  and  especially  the  intimate  friendships  formed  with 
John  Hersey  and  other  intelligent  and  truly  devoted  Chris- 
tians, very  deeply  impressed  me.  Religiously  it  was  a  period 
of  very  great  importance  to  me.  The  subject  of  Jioline.ss 
engrossed  my  mind  and  heart.  I  read,  thought,  and  prayed 
about  it.  Two  days  in  the  w^eek  I  fasted  and  prayed  espe- 
cially for  the  blessing  of  perfect  love.  Often  I  spent  hours 
at  a  time  alone  in  the  forest  invoking  the  blessing  of  a  '  clean 
heart.'  During  many  hours  of  lonesome  travel  through 
primeval  forests  it  occupied  my  thoughts.  I  never  doubted 
that  I  had  been  converted  October  9,  1817.  Others  had 
gone  on  to  a  higher  state  and  had  attained  it,  Why  not  I? 
I  denied  myself  many  things  I  had  always  heretofore  thought 
innocent.  I  keenly  introspected  my  feelings  and  motives. 
If  I  were  to  particularize,  my  readers  would  likely  think 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  209 

my  conscience  was  morbidly  sensitive.  ]\iy  long  rides  and 
constant  labors  and  abstinence  enfeebled  me  so  that  I  could 
not  ride  ten  miles  without  getting  off  and  resting  by  the 
road-side.  I  became  very  thin — my  knees  got  as  hard  as  a 
Avoud-chopper's  hand,  and  my  throat  or  lungs  commenced 
bleeding  daily.  Still  I  went  on,  preaching  almost  every 
day  and  frequently  at  night,  looking  for  the  blessing  of 
'sanctification.'  I  remember  distinctly  while  preaching  on 
'the  pure  in  heart,'  at  Hardwick's,  near  Savannah,  to  have 
felt  such  a  sense  of  God's  comforting  presence  that  I  was 
constrained  to  avow  that  I  then  realized  the  blessing  of  per- 
fect love.  Nor  was  it  a  transient  or  solitary  emotion.  Yet 
I  hesitated  and  feared  to  profess  it.  I  needed  some  one  to 
teach  and  guide  me.  So  things  continued  until  I  left  for 
another  field.  The  year's  experience  deeply  impressed  my 
religious  history. 

"Of  late  I  have  been  often  asked  my  opinion  as  to  cer- 
tain articles  which  have  been  published  as  to  regeneration, 
sanctification,  holiness.  Christian  perfection,  etc.,  especially 
as  to  whether  regeneration  and  sanctification  are  distinct 
and  separate  operations,  each  having  its  distinct  evidence ; 
or  are  they  one,  differing  only  in  measure  or  degree?  wheth- 
er in  either  or  any  case  it  is  proper  to  expect  and  pray  for 
a  wholly  sanctified  heart  and  the  witness  of  the  Holy  Spirit; 
of  its  attainment  yioiu;  or  is  it  a  state  of  grace  which  is 
gradual,  and  culminates  only  at  the  elose  of  probation?  To 
these  and  similar  inquiries,  and  speaking  for  myself  alone, 
my  answer  is,  I  am  not  inclined  to  take  as  my  creed  on  this 
or  any  other  scriptural  dogma  the  language,  by  wholesale 
of  any  uninspired  creed-maker  without  explanation.  I  am 
a  Methodist,  and  believe  in  the  doctrines  and  polity  of  my 
Church,  as  I  understand  them  to  be  embodied  directly  or 
by  fair  inference  in  the  Scriptures;  and  my  views  on  thii* 
subject  may  be  thus  briefly  stated: 
14 


210  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,  D.D. 

"Regeneration  changes  our  spiritual  nature  as  justifica- 
tion does  our  personal  relation  to  God.  As  faith  is  the  con- 
dition precedent  to  these,  so  this  faith,  leading  to  filial  obe- 
dience, carries  for^vard  the  work  of  grace  to  more  full  out- 
pourings of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and,  when  persistently  sought, 
to  closer  communion  with  God,  to  which  he  gives  the  witness 
of  his  work.  It  is  the  same  agent,  the  same  work,  to  be  re- 
tained and  grow  while  life  lasts.  Every  truly  regenerated 
person  is  'set  apart'  to  the  service  of  God — 'sanctified.' 
He  enters  upon  '  the  highway  of  holiness,'  and  if  he  contin- 
ues holy  and  faithful  he  will  most  assuredly  attain  to  '  the 
mark  for  the  prize.'  Along  this  thoroughfare  are  stages,  or 
degree  stations,  which  mark  his  progress ;  and  who  can  deny 
that  'a  clean  heart,  a  right  spirit,'  'love  that  casteth  out 
fear,'  and  the  sanctity  which  Christ  prayed  that  his  disciples 
might  attain,  may  not  be  realized  here,  accompanied  by  the 
witnessing  Spirit?  May  we  not  expect  to  realize  what  God 
promises  to  bestow?  And  why  withhold  his  seal  in  verify- 
ing his  own  work? 

"It  is,  then,  possible  to  be  sanctified  here,  to  love  God 
supremely,  and  yet  to  labor  under  physical  infirmities  and 
the  misfortune  of  a  perverted  nature.  They  are  inevitable 
sequences  of  the  fall,  and  I  cannot  associate  guilt  with  the 
inevitable.  I  have  never  forgotten  a  question  proposed  to 
me  by  an  old  preacher  of  another  Church  shortly  after  my 
conversion :  '  Did  you  repent  of  Adam's  sin  ? '  It  was  a  new 
thought  to  me,  and  I  replied:  'I  never  thought  of  Adam's 
sin.  my  own  troubled  me  so  much.'  He  thought  I  had  not 
gone  far  enough  hack.  I  was  troubled  with  the  effects,  but 
not  'penitent  for  the  guilt,  of  original  sin.  Guilt  without  per- 
sonal agency  is  a  myth,  especially  in  view  of  the  vicarious 
'oblation  that  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world.'" 

The  extraordinary  effect  produced  by  the  preaching  of 
Dr.  Bascom  has  been  noticed  in  a  preceding  extract  from 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  211 

the  "  Notes  of  Life."     In  the  f()lh)\viug,  Bishop  Paine  i)re- 
seiits  a  more  extended  [)ieturc  of  this  great  preacher: 

"The  life  of  Henry  Bidlenian  Baseoni  abounded  witli  in- 
structive incidents,  many  of  Avhieh  are  too  well  known  to 
rail  for  repetition.  It  may  not,  however,  be  amiss  to  eni- 
jihasize  a  few  of  them.  Born  jMay  27,  1796,  in  New  Jer- 
sey, he  embraced  religion  August  18,  1810;  was  received 
by  Loring  Grant  into  the  Methodist  Church  the  next 
spring;  emigrated  to  Kentucky  with  his  father's  family  in 
1812,  and  shortly  afterward  settled  in  Ohio,  a  few  miks 
north  of  Maysville,  Kentucky,  in  a  poor  and  lonely  region 
of  hills  and  gulches.  His  father  seems  to  have  been  mar- 
ried twice,  and  had  a  large  family — Henry  being  his  first- 
born, and  I  believe  the  only  child  of  his  first  wife.  His 
father,  always  poor,  became  prematurely  infirm,  and  with 
the  burden  of  a  heavy  family  could  not  dispense  with  the 
labor  of  his  son.  After  that  son  had  culminated  as  'a 
bright  particular  star,'  as  a  writer  and  orator  in  the  galaxy 
of  great  names  destined  '  never  to  fade  nor  fly,'  while  stand- 
ing with  an  old  resident  of  the  city  of  Maysville,  Kentucky, 
overlooking  the  busy  wharf,  the  river,  and  opposite  the  clitfs 
upon  whose  side  stood  the  humble  log-cabin  whence  young 
Bascom  in  his  fourteenth  year  went  forth  to  struggle  for  a 
living  fur  himself  and  his  dependent  father  and  his  half 
sisters  and  brothers,  my  friend  said  to  me :  '  Here,  right  be- 
fore you,  is  the  place  where  our  great  and  loved  Dr.  Bas- 
com began  his  life's  battle.  In  that  little  field  on  the  river 
I  have  seen  him  often  cutting  grain  without  coat  or  vest. 
At  this  wharf,  as  a  drayman,  I  have  watched  him  receive 
and  hauling  away  the  freight  from  boats,  when  the  usual 
pay  for  a  day's  labor  was  fifty  cents.  Saturday  evening 
would  find  him  climbing  up  the  brow  of  that  steep  and  rug- 
ged mountain,  bearing  provisions  and  a  few  simple  delica- 
cies, obtained  by  the  daily  la])or  of  his  own  hands,  for  the 


212  LIFE  OF  nOEERT  PAINE,   D.D. 


support  of  his  bedridden  father  and  helpless  family.'     In- 
deed, his  unfaltering  love,  and  tender,  never-ceasing  care 
and    kindness  to    his    kindred,  through    many  years,  was 
known  by  all  his  early  neighbors.     Even  after  he  had  won 
his  professorship  in  Augusta  College,  and  stood  with  liuter, 
Durbin,  and  Tomlinson,  he  would  devote  all  his  net  earn- 
ings to  the  physical  and  intellectual  benefit  of  his  father's  flu n- 
ily.     And  when  the  old  people  became  so  ill  as  to  require 
constant  and  skillful  nursing,  he  spent  his  college  vacation 
at  home,  taking  what  repose  was  possible  in  sleeping  upon 
the  rough  puncheon-floor  of  the  cabin,  with  only  a  blanket 
under  him,  ready  to  rise  and  minister  to  the  sufferer  at  the 
first  sign.     His  INIaker  endowed   him  with  an  intellect   of 
the  highest  compass,  a  robust  will,  and  the  strongest  sym- 
pathies.    All   these  qualities  are    necessary  to  make  the 
highest  order  of  manhood.     All  this  and  more  was  Dr.  Bas- 
com.     I  need  not  allude  to  his  extraordinary  eloquence,  by 
which  he  swayed  listening  thousands  into  rapture  or  terror 
as  his  theme  changed ;  nor  to  his  clear  and  masterly  writing 
— as,  for  example,  his  protest  against  the  action  of  the  ma- 
jority in  the  General  Conference  of  1844. 

"  The  course  adopted  in  publishing  Bishop  Bascom's  ser- 
mx)ns  has  been  regretted  by  many  of  his  best  friends.  They 
were  by  himself  called  'Sermons  for  the  Pulpit' — not  for 
the  press — and  an  attempt  was  made  by  some  of  his  friends 
to  place  them  and  other  productions  of  his  pen  in  the  hands 
of  the  now  deceased  Bishop  Wightman,  who  it  is  understood 
wcmld  revise  them,  and  supervise  their  publication.  Un- 
fortunately other  counsels  prevailed.  The  preaching  style 
of  the  Bishop  before  vast  and  promiscuous  assemblies,  owing 
to  his  rich  imagination  and  his  rare  command  of  words,  was 
often  very  rapid  and  highly  ornate,  while  his  written  style 
W'as  more  simple  and  lucid.  He  was  aware  of  this,  and 
hence  the  discrimination  he  made  between  pulpit  and  press. 


ElSIIOr  OF  TIIK  M.  E.  CirURni,  SOUTH.  218 


"  This  critique,  however,  inust  not  be  regarded  as  de])re- 
ciating  his  published  sermons  as  to  tlieir  true  merits,  for 
taking  them  as  they  are  issued,  they  disphiy  a  high  order 
of  mind. 

"Although  he  justly  stood  preeminent  in  the  estimation  of 
'Mv.  Henry  Clay,  and  others  who  had  a  national  reputation 
for  learning  and  eloquence,  yet,  as  his  biograplierssay,  there 
were  a  number  of  his  early  associates  among  the  preachers 
by  whom  he  was  not  appreciated.  His  dress  and  personal 
appearance  did  not  suit  their  taste,  hence  the  ^vithholding 
of  his  reception  and  ordination  for  two  years. 

"The  election  of  Dr.  Bascom  to  the  episcopacy  was  a  sur- 
prise to  himself  more  than  to  the  Church.  It  took  place  at 
the  session  of  the  General  Conference  in  St.  Louis,  in  1^~A). 
The  session  was  a  short  one,  owing  to  the  appearance  of 
cholera  in  the  city  as  an  epidemic.  There  was  a  panic 
among  its  citizens,  many  fleeing  into  the  country,  some  of 
them  having  agreed  to  entertain  delegates,  who  were  thus 
suddenly  left  without  homes  for  awhile.  The  death  of  a 
delegate  from  Georgia — Boring — increased  the  excitement, 
and  the  Conference  determined  to  elect  a  Bishop  and  close 
the  session  as  soon  as  its  necessary  work  could  be  transact- 
ed. When  the  election  came  off,  Bishops  Soule  and  An- 
drew were  sick — the  former  confined  to  his  bed  and  very 
feeble.  Neither  of  them  was  present.  Bishop  Capers  and 
the  writer  presided  to  the  close  of  the  Conference.  In  leav- 
ing the  room  shortly  after  the  result  of  the  ballot  had  been 
announced,  and  the  adjournment  of  the  day's  work.  Dr. 
Bascom  was  seen  in  the  rear  part  of  the  house  sitting  alone 
with  his  head  bowed,  and  upon  approaching  him  he  was 
f)und  weeping  and  almost  convulsed  with  emotion.  He 
protested  that  he  did  not  want  and  could  not  accept  the  of- 
fice— that  he  was  unsuited  to  it,  had  never  acted  as  presiding 
elder  or  actual  chainiuui.     His  Iial)its  of  life,  his  taste,  and 


214  LIFE  OF   liOBEPtT  PAINE,   D.D. 


his  purposes  were,  and  had  always  been,  otherwise.  Final- 
ly, he  agreed  that  if  upon  my  consulting  the  Bishops  they 
should  unanimously  agree  and  desire  his  ordination,  which 
he  doubted,  he  might  consent  to  it ;  but  certainly  not  with- 
out this.  At  night  the  Bishops  met  for  consultation.  Bish- 
o})  Soule  was  in  bed,  and  very  ill.  Bishop  Andrew  was  re- 
clining on  a  sofa  when  Bishop  Capers  and  I  entered,  and 
presently  laid  before  them  the  state  of  Dr.  Bascom's  feel- 
ings. Capers  and  myself  were  decided  in  our  opinion  that 
he  ought  to  submit  to  ordination.  As  usual,  the  younger 
Bishops  being  first  called  upon  for  their  opinions,  ive  did 
not  hesitate.  Our  senior,  more  deliberate,  finally  agreed 
that  they  could  not  advise  the  Bishop  elect  to  decline.  It 
is  a  principle  among  us  not  to  interfere  in  the  election  of 
our  colleagues.  We  never  vote  anywhere  outside  of  our 
private  meetings  as  a  college  for  review  and  advice.  Upon 
such  occasions  the  Bishop  who  would  shrink  from  meeting  a 
question  frankly  and  promptly,  or  who  would  suffer  an  hon- 
est and  independent  difference  of  opinion  to  disturb  the  har- 
mony and  kind  feelings  of  the  body,  would  be  justly  es- 
teemed as  unfit  for  his  high  position.  No  such  case  has 
occurred  among  us  for  the  last  thirty-six  years.  I  confess 
that  there  Avas  an  apparent  reluctance  in  our  senior  Bishops 
in  advising  Dr.  Bascom  to  conform  to  the  wish  of  the  Con- 
ference; but  I  may  have  been  mistaken,  or  they  might  have 
been  of  his  opinion,  that  he  was  better  adapted  for  and  more 
needed  in  other  work,  while  others  could  fill  the  office  with 
equal  benefit  to  the  Church  at  large.  From  whatever  rea- 
son, if  any,  they  seemed  to  hesitate,  they  agreed  to  appoint 
the  time  and  place  of  his  consecration.  Dr.  Bascom  was 
appointed  to  preach,  as  it  turned  out  to  be,  his  own  oVdina- 
tion  discourse,  which  he  did  upon  the  text,  '  God  forbid  that  I 
should  glory,  save  in  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ' — 
one  of  the  finest  efforts  of  his  life.     Among  other  objections 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  2l5 

he  had  niiule  to  his  acceptance  of  the  office,  he  said,  with 
strong  emotion,  'It  will  kill  me ' — prophetic  words.  Innnedi- 
ately  after  the  General  Conference  he  presided  at  the  Missou- 
ri Conference,  thence  went  into  the  Indian  Territory,  then 
back  to  St.  Louis,  and  finding  his  health  seriously  impaired 
by  constant  travel,  care,  and  preaching  through  the  hot 
summer  months,  he  started  home;  but  reaching  Louisville, 
he  was  utterly  stricken  down,  and  died  at  Edward  Steven- 
son's, in  the  fifly-third  year  of  his  age.  Thus  fell  in  the 
prime  of  his  life,  and  the  rich  and  ripened  powers  of  a  mind 
of  rare  strength  and  extraordinary  compass,  a  great  and 
mighty  prince  in  our  Israel. 

"Am  I  asked  how^  the  poor,  obscure  boy,  who  '  never  went 
to  school  after  he  was  twelve  years  old,'  attained  a  national 
reputation  as  an  orator,  a  writer,  and  for  usefulness  as  a 
minister  of  the  gospel?  I  answer,  by  study  and  perseverance. 
There  is  before  me  one  of  the  standard  books  in  the  course 
of  study  in  his  department  of  the  senior  class,  which  he 
used  wdiile  president  of  a  college,  which  evinces  his  patient 
and  profound  examination  of  its  contents.  It  is  full  of  notes 
and  exhaustive  criticisms.  He  not  only  read  but  digested 
and  assorted  the  author's  thoughts.  Yet  he  was  timid  to  a 
fault  in  extemporizing,  and  could  not  be  drawn  into  discus- 
sion upon  the  Conference-floor.  I  have  seen  him  put  to 
ccmfusion  and  silenced  by  an  attack  unexpectedly  made 
upon  him.  Early  in  his  ministry  Bascom  contracted  the 
habit  of  memorizing  his  sermons  and  his  lectures.  His 
celebrated  addresses  while  he  traveled  as  agent  for  the  Af- 
rican Colonization  Society,  and  his  pulpit  efforts  which  so 
moved  listening  thousands,  were  thus  delivered.  But  as 
his  years  advanced,  memory  losing  its  ])ower  of  retention, 
and  the  failing  of  the  eye  rendering  reading  from  the  man- 
uscript absolutely  necessary,  the  pathos  of  his  former  years 
decreased,  while  his  intellectual  vigor  was  undiminished. 


216  LIFE  OF   KOBERT   PAINE,    D.D. 

Such  must  be  the  result  ^vhenever  this  practice  is  pursued. 
We  freely  admit  that  his  style  was  too  florid  to  suit  the  taste 
of  critics ;  but  take  him  as  he  was,  and  as  by  divine  grace 
he  made  himself,  he  was  one  of  the  most  brilliant  examples 
of  a  great  and  noble  self-made  man  recorded  in  the  history 
of  the  American  Church." 

No  man  was  more  thoroughly  versed  in  the  history  and 
constitution  of  the  Church  than  Bishop  Paine.  The  last 
extract  we  j^i^esent  from  the  "Notes  of  Life"  is  upon  our 
"Church  Polity:" 

"It  has  been  already  stated  that  the  General  Conference 
held  in  May,  1820,  was  marked  by  several  highly  impor- 
tant incidents.  Among  these  was  the  rule  making  presid- 
ing elders  elective,  and  giving  them,  by  law,  authority  as  a 
council  W'ith  the  Bishop  to  station  the  preachers.  This  was 
followed  by  the  election  of  Joshua  Soule  to  the  episcopacy, 
his  refusing  to  accept  the  office  under  this  law,  the  solemn 
protest  of  the  senior  BishojD — McKendree — against  it,  and 
the  suspension  of  this  rule  until  the  next  session  of  the  Gen- 
eral Conference. 

"  The  retirement  of  Bishop  McKendree,  at  his  own  sugges- 
tion, and  with  the  consent  of  the  body,  from  the  effective  du- 
ties of  his  office,  but  to  continue  to  assist  his  colleagues  as 
might  be  practicable  and  agreeable  to  himself,  was  adopted 
in  a  series  of  resolutions  highly  commendatory  of  him  as  a 
Christian  minister  and  an  efficient  and  approved  chief  pas- 
tor of  the  Church — a  compliment  as  heartily  given  as  it 
was  richly  deserved. 

"  It  may  not  be  amiss  to  pause  awhile  here  to  make  a  few 
suggestions:  (1)  Signs  of  dissatisfaction  with  that  part  of 
our  Church  polity  involved  in  the  presiding  eldership  and  lay 
representation  had  occurred  for  several  years,  but  not  until 
now  had  this  opposition  assumed  an  attitude  so  united,  and  so 
menacing  to  the  harmony  and  integrity  of  the  Church.     (2) 


BlSIIOr  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  217 


This  opi)()sition  was  confined  prineii^ally  to  the  Eastern 
and  Northern  Conferences — the  Western  and  Southern 
being  more  conservative.  At  the  first  delegated  Gen- 
eral Conference  (1812),  resolutions  proposing  to  elect 
the  presiding  elders  hy  the  Annual  Conferences  were 
debated  two  days  and  rejected.  The  Bishops — Asbury 
and  McKendree — were  decidedly  opposed  to  them.  (3) 
At  every  successive  session  down  to  1828  this  question 
continued  to  disturb  the  supreme  legislative  council  of  the 
Church.  Since  then,  and  especially  in  the  Southern 
branch  of  our  common  Methodism,*it  has  done  little  harm, 
because  we  have  kept  abreast  with  the  sentiment  of  our 
wisest  and  best  members.  May  not  the  time  come  when 
our  Northern  brethren  will  need  the  conservative  aid  of 
the  South  to  resist  this  inroad  upon  primitive  and  constitu- 
tional Methodism  ?  (4)  This  measure  could  not  have  been 
carried  in  1820  except  by  the  aid  of  prominent  Southern 
delegates — Dr.  Capers  and  others,  for  example — induced 
thereto  by  appeals  for  a  ^comjyromise  peace  measure,^  but 
which,  upon .  more  mature  reflection,  they  felt  bound  to 
reconsider  and  oppose.  (5)  The  principal  grounds  upon 
which  the  senior  Bishop  and  the  Bishop  elect  rested  their 
objections  were  that  the  change  proposed  as  to  the  presiding 
eldership  was  radical  and  revolutionary ;  that  our  episcopacy 
is  an  integral  and  coordinate  element  in  the  very  constitution 
and  organization  of  the  Church — its  chief  executive ;  that  the 
episcopacy  is  a  general  and  itinerant  oversight,  charged  with 
the  duties  of  supervising  the  whole  body  and  officially  re- 
s[)onsible  for  the  administration  of  the  rules,  laws,  and 
usages  of  the  Discipline;  that  their  efficient  performance 
of  these  duties  of  administration  demand  that  they  shall 
have  the  authority  to  appoint  and  change  those  sub-officials 
who  maybe  necessary  to  act  in  their  place  according  to  the 
law;   that  it  would  be  unreasonable  and  unjust  to  iiiijxiso 


218  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 

upon  a  Bishop  the  duty  of  conserving  the  polity  and  liar- 
nionious  working  of  our  economy,  and  subject  him  to  higli 
penalty  for  alleged  failure,  unless  he  could  select  and  dis- 
miss the  persons  through  whom,  in  his  necessary  absence, 
the  complicated  and  onerous  duties  would  devolve  of  in- 
structing and  controlling  the  junior  pastoi's  under  him. 
In  all  well-organized  governments,  pretending  to  secure 
freedom  to  their  subjects,  there  must  be  a  division  of  offi- 
cial powers;  and  like  every  machine  which,  however  well 
constructed,  is  useless,  and  consequently  a  practical  failure, 
unless  a  moving  power-  is  attached  to  it  adequate  to  its  har- 
monious operation,  so  of  governments,  civil  and  ecclesias- 
tical. If  there  be  an  excess  of  propelling  force,  there  is 
danger;  if  too  little,  it  is  useless.  In  the  first  place,  we 
have  to  fear  a  despotism;  in  the  last,  anarchy.  In  our 
civil  government  we  distribute  the  control  of  the  system 
among  three  distinct  coordinate  heads,  or  departments — 
the  legislative,  or  law-making,  State  and  national,  under 
constitutional  restrictions ;  the  executive,  of  which  the  Pres- 
ident is  chief ;  and  the  judiciary,  or  Supreme  Court.  These 
all  act  in  their  respective  departments  through  appointees; 
where  they  cannot  do  so  personally,  they  have  power  to  a})- 
puint,  change,  and  oversee  them,  their  official  responsibilities 
require  the  right  of  appointing  them.  There  is,  however, 
a  marked  difference  between  the  constitution  of  our  Churcli 
aud  of  our  civil  govel*nment;  for  while  the  latter  restricts 
t]ie  power  of  the  Federal  Government  from  doing  any  thing 
excepting  such  as  pertains  to  the  general  welfare,  reserving 
the  remainder  of  power  to  the  people  or  the  States  respect- 
ively, the  former  confers  plenary,  not  to  say  unlimited,  au- 
thority upon  its  supreme  legislative  department,  subject  to 
only  a  few  limitations;  and  it  is  worthy  of  remark  that  one 
of  these  few  restrictions  is  the  positive  proliibition  of  the 
power  to  '  do  away  episcopacy,  or  destroy  the  pla^i  of  our  itin- 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.   E.   CHURCH.  SOUTH.  210 


erant  general  superintendency:  Agiiin,  our  Church  govern- 
ment differ!^  ^videly  from  other  forms  of  episcopal  regime. 
Take  the  Protestant  Episcopal,  for  instance.  They  claim  a 
divine  right  and  an  unbroken  tactual  succession  of  persons 
as  Bishops  from  the  apostles.  We  hold  that  no  such  suc- 
cession can  be  traced,  or  is  necessary ;  that,  on  the  contrary, 
the  true  succession,  instead  of  being  personal,  is  that  of 
scriptural  doctrine,  experience,  and  practice,  affirmed  and 
authorized  by  a  regularly  organized  Christian  Church  for 
the  sole  purpose  of  spreading  and  perpetuating  the  kingdom 
of  God  over  the  world,  and  that  thus  we  follow  scriptural 
analogy  and  the  usage  of  the  primitive  Church.  Expedi- 
ency and  practical  utility  combine  with  the  great  purpose 
and  early  usages  of  the  Church  in  sustaining  our  claim. 

"Our  system  also  recognizes  its  ministers  as  coming  up 
by  nomination  from  its  membership  as  distinguished  from 
its  high  officials.  It  in  effect  says,  as  did  the  apostles  on  a 
memorable  occasion,  '  Choose  ye  out  seven  men  from  among 
yourselves  whom  we  may  appoint/  etc.  ^Vhile  no  one  in 
our  Church  can  be  licensed  to  preach,  or  ordained  to  office, 
without  a  regular  examination  and  election  emanating  from 
the  Church,  I  believe  a  Bishop  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal 
Church  can  ordain  at  his  discretion. 

"Another  difference  is,  our  whole  economy  is  essentially 
itinerant,  our  episcopacy  is  a  general  itinerancy— general, 
not  partial  or  local ;  a  Bishop  is  such  in  every  part  of  the 
Church — has  rights  and  functions  equally  regular  and  valid 
everywhere ;  itinerant  instead  of  local  or  diocesan.  Like 
his  appointees,  he  must  travel  as  well  as  preach  and  oversee 
his  charge.  For  a  failure  to  discharge  all  these  duties,  or 
any  of  them,  he  is  subject  to  arrest  and  deposition.  Al 
each  General  Conference  the  records  of  all  the  Annual 
Conferences  are  critically  examined;  the  action  of  these 
bodies,  and  especially  the  decisions  made  on  all  questions 


220  lifp:  of  eobert  paine,  d.d. 


of  law,  carefully  noted,  and  if  disapproved  are  formally 
reported,  and  may  be  the  ground  of  trial  and  expulsion  of 
the  Bishop  presiding.  Is  it  not  right  that  under  such  re- 
sponsibilities he  should  be  alloAved  to  select  his  advisers  and 
assistants  in  overseeing  the  charge  intrusted  to  his  hands? 
A\'ould  not  the  change  sought  for  so  cripple  and  modify  our 
episcopacy  as  to  create  a  serious  obstacle  to  the  efficient 
exercise  of  its  power?  So  thought  Asbury,  Bruce,  ]\Ic- 
Kendree,  and  Soule,  and  a  great  majority  in  the  Church, 
South. 

"  During  the  pendency  of  this  controversy  a  very  impor- 
tant point  was  raised,  involving  the  question  of  settling  a 
constitutional  law  when  the  General  Conference  adopts  and 
persists  in  maintaining  an  act  which  the  Bishojis  as  firmly 
hold  to  be  unconstitutional,  and  therefore  null  and  void. 
For  instance,  the  third  article  of  the  Constitution,  on  the 
organization  of  a  delegated  general  legislative  body,  thus 
restricts  and  limits  its  action:  'They  shall  not  change  or 
alter  any  part  or  rule  of  our  government  so  as  to  do  away 
episcopacy,  or  destroy  the  plan  of  our  itinerant  general 
superintendency.'     While  it  was  admitted  that  these  sus- 
pended  rules   may  not   do   away  episcopacy,  it  was   held 
by  Asbury,  McKendree,  Soule,  and  generally  by  our  most 
thoughtful  Southern  preachers,  that  in   withdrawing  the 
presiding  eldership  from  the  aid  and  control  of  the  Bishoi)s 
the  harmonious  and  effective  operation  of  our  plan  of  itin- 
erant general  superintendency  would  be  virtually  destroyed, 
and  the  power  of  the  episcopacy  crippled.     Who  was  to  de- 
cide this  issue?     If  the  Bishops  persisted  in  exercising  their 
former  authority,  they  could  not  enforce  it  against  the  An- 
nual Conferences  and  the  dominant  party  of  the  General 
Conference.     And  it  would  be  absurd,  as  w^ell  as  anomalous, 
for  a  delegated  legislative  body  to  sit  in  judgment  upon  the 
constitutionality  of  their  own  enactments.     Bishop  ^IcKen- 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CIIURCFI,  SOUTH.  221 

dree  therefore  deterniined  to  address  a  circular  to  each  An- 
nual Conference,  and  call  upon  thcni,  as  the  original  source 
of  delei^ated  j)ower,  to  determine  the  vexed  question.  This 
course  had  been  successfully  resorted  to  in  a  previous  case; 
but  fortunately,  before  the  responses  from  the  Annual  Con- 
ferences came,  by  the  overwhelming  majority  of  the  General 
Conference  of  1828  these  resolutions  were  annulled,  and,  let 
us  hope,  forever  settled."' 


222  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,  D.D. 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

Gbnekal  Coxference  of  1866 — Changes  Made — Lay 
Element — New  Bishops. 

AFTER  his  round  of  Conferences  in  the  fall  and  winter 
of  1865-66,  he  went  to  the  General  Conference  which 
met  in  New  Orleans  in  x\.pril,  1866.  This  Conference  gave 
to  the  Church  lay  delegation.  No  wiser  addition  was 
ever  made  to  the  life  and  energy  of  a  Church  organization. 
While  it  increased  the  importance  of  the  lay  element  in  our 
Church  and  added  largely  to  its  influence,  it  did  not  detract 
in  the  least  from  the  influence  of  the  clergy.  Dr.  Palmer, 
the  distinguished  Presbyterian  minister  of  New  Orleans, 
who  witnessed  the  whole  proceeding  spoke  of  it  in  the  high- 
est terms  of  commendation.  He  declared  it  to  be  an  ex- 
ample of  the  moral  sublime,  and  that  great  good  would  re- 
sult from  utilizing  this  important  element  in  the  Church. 
And  his  declaration  has  been  found  in  all  respects  a  true 
prophecy.  We  could  not  now  do  without  this  important 
element  in  our  General  Conference.  It  is  conservative;  it 
is  practical ;  it  is  eminently  helpful.  This  change  in  our 
Church-  polity  met  with  the  hearty  approbation  of  Bishop 
Paine.  He  was  always  progressive,  as  well  as  highly  con- 
servative. He  was  not  impetuous.  He  belonged  to  that 
class*  of  ministers  of  whom  the  Apostle  Paul  was  a  type. 
He  was  altogether  unlike  the  impetuous  Peter.  He  seldom 
had  to  repent  at  leisure  of  what  he  had  done  in  haste.  His 
sound  judgment  approved  of  a  measure  which  would  bring 
to  the  front  so  much  talent  and  so  much  piety,  and  whic^h 
for  near  three-quarters  of  a  century  had  been  suflered  to  lie 
dormant.     The  change  has  worked  as  well  as  its  most  san- 


J 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURrir,  SOUTH.  223 


guine  friends  could  have  anticipated.  It  was  at  this  Con- 
ference, amid  great  excitement  and  confusion,  that  he  took 
the  chair  at  the  earnest  request  of  one  of  his  colleagues 
whose  modesty  had  rendered  him  unequal  to  the  task  of 
bringing  order  out  of  such  confusion.  He  showed  himself 
every  inch  a  Bishop.  Combining  mildness  and  dignity  with 
a  power  to  command  which  few  men  have  ever  surpassed,  he 
soon  restored  order;  and  holding  the  reins  with  a  firm  and 
steady  hand,  he  caused  the  business  to  move  on  without  a  jar 
to  the  end  of  the  session.  Said  one  eye-witness  to  the  writer  : 
"  I  never  saw^  authority  wielded  Avith  such  ease  and  such 
1  erfect  success  in  my  life."  At  this  Conference  the  vener- 
able Bishop  Andrew  asked  to  be  relieved  from  active  work. 
He  had  been  a  Bishop  thirty-four  years.  He  had  been 
equal  to  every  emergency.  His  purity  of  life  had  never 
been  surpassed  in  the  history  of  the  Church.  He  was  a 
saintly  man.  He  had  wielded  a  wide  and  pure  influence  in 
his  day.  He  had  as  little  to  regret  as  almost  any  "man  that 
had  filled  the  episcopal  chair.  His  address  asking  to  be  re- 
lieved deeply  afl?ected  the  Conference.  They  saw  a  grand 
old  hero  retiring  from  the  strife  to  rest  on  his  arms.  They 
parted  from  him  with  tears  of  tenderest  sympathy. 

Then  Bishop  Early  asked  also  to  be  placed  in  the  same 
relation.  He  chafed  under  the  pressure  of  infirmities  which 
he  could  not  resist.  He  did  not  wish  to  rest.  He  wanted 
to  work  on  and  die  in  the  field.  But  acting  under  the  a*d- 
vice  of  his  best  and  ^visest  friends,  he  retired  regretting  to 
the  last  that  the  necessity  was  upon  him.  Then  it  became 
necessary  to  elect  four  additional  Bishops.  William  May 
AVightman,  of  Alabama,  then  President  of  Greensboro  Uni- 
versity; Enoch  Mather  Marvin,  of  Texas;  David  Seth  Dog- 
gett,  of  Virginia;  and  Holland  Nimmons  McTyeire,  of 
Alabama,  were  elected.  These  were  all  good  men  and  true, 
Marvin  was  the  great  evangelist.     He   encompassed   the 


224  LIFE   OF   ROBERT   RAINE,  D.D. 

globe  and  fell  at  last  at  his  post,  beloved  and  honored  by 
all.  Doggett  was  the  profound  theologian  and  eloquent 
pulpit  orator;  Wightman,  the  accomplished  scholar,  the 
refined  Christian  gentleman,  and  the  elegant  writer;  and 
McTyeire  was  the  great  debater,  the  original  thinker,  the 
superior  parliamentarian  and  thorough  ecclesiastical  lawyer. 
The  last  named  is  still  active,  laborious,  and  useful;  the 
others  have  all  gone  to  their  reward.  Four  better  men 
could  not  have  been  placed  in  this  high  and  responsible  of- 
fice. They  were  all  brave  men,  tried  and  true.  They  un- 
derstood well  the  needs  of  the  Church  at  this  important 
juncture,  and  went  at  once  to  work  to  build  up  the  waste 
places  and  rehabilitate  a  Church  whose  very  existence  had 
been  threatened.  Bishop  Paine  was  now  the  active  Senior 
Bishop.  All  confided  in  him.  He  had  the  perfect  confi- 
dence of  his  colleagues  and  of  the  whole  Church.  The 
Episcopal  College  was  strong,  vigorous,  active.  Church 
affairs  progressed  well.  Doctors  McFerrin  and  Sehon  were 
the  active  and  popular  Missionary  Secretaries.  The  Church 
moved.  The  Xashville  Christian  Advocate  was  committed 
to  Dr.  Summers,  and  Dr.  A.  H.  Bedford  was  placed  in 
charge  of  the  Book  Concern.  Soon  prosperity  succeeded 
the  terrible  dearth  produced  by  the  w^ar.  The  District 
Conferences  brought  the  Bishops  more  closely  in  contact 
with  the  people.  Gracious  revivals  of  religion  added  many 
new  members  to  the  Church.  Old  educational  enterprises 
were  still  carried  forward,  and  new  ones  were  undertaken. 
Soon  all  fears  subsided  as  to  the  permanency  and  success  of. 
the  Church.  To  no  living  man  Avas  this  prosperity  due 
more  than  to  Bishop  Robert  Paine.  During  the  summer  of 
1866  he  went  all  over  the  State  of  Mississippi  preaching  as 
he  went.  He  had  great  liberty  and  power.  There  were 
many  revivals  and  many  converts.  He  preached  at  Vicks- 
burg,  Grenada,   Holly  Springs,  Oxford,  Jackson,  Canton, 


BISIIOr  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  225 


Crystal  Si)rin,frs,  Hazleliiirst,  Beauregard,  ^Yeston,  Brook- 
haven,  lii'aiidon,  and  at  many  placos  in  the  eoiintrv,  in 
churches  and  under  arl)()is.  Tlius  was  the  Church  edified 
and  many  sinners  turned  from  darkness  to  light.  He  was 
appn^aching  the  close  of  the  sixty-seventh  year  of  his  labori- 
ous life,  and  was  never  more  active  and  never  more  useful. 
Mourners  were  called,  and  then  led  to  Christ  and  enabled 
to  rejoice  in  the  forgiveness  of  sin  and  the  witness  of  the 
Holy  Spirit.  At  one  meeting  there  were  forty  converts,  and 
all  along  this  preaching  tour  he  was  successful  in  winning 
souls.  At  Corinth,  Miss.,  he  was  again  robbed,  and  on  an- 
other part  of  the  route  the  train  was  derailed.  Out  of  all 
these  perils  he  was  brought  by  that  special  Providence  in 
which  he  so  confidently  trusted.  Toward  the  close  of  the 
year  1866  he  presided  at  the  Memphis  Conference  at  Jack- 
son, Tenn.,  the  Mississippi  Conference  at  Brookhaven,  Miss., 
and  the  Louisiana  Conference  at  Baton  Rouge.  A  siuirular 
legal  question  came  up  for  episcopal  decision  at  the  Missis- 
sippi Conference.     It  was  this: 

Can  a  member  of  the  Conference  accused  of  an  offense  alleged  to 
have  been  committed  three  years  ago,  and  which  lias  been  rumored 
and  reported  for  more  than  two  years  but  never  dealt  with  according 
to  law,  be  brought  to  trial  in  any  otlier  method  than  is  i>nni(led  for 
in  the  Discipline  of  the  Church?  James  McLaurin, 

ir.  II.  MoXTGOMERY. 

Brookhaven,  LSiJG. 

In  reply  to  the  above,  I  have  to  say  that  of  course  the  method  of 
trial  in  all  cases  must  be  according  to  the  Discipline  of  the  Churcli. 

R.  Paine. 

December,  18G6. 

"Of  course"  the  Bishop  decided  in  favor  of  adhering  to 
the  Discipline.  This  was  the  rule  of  his  life.  He  followed 
the  old  paths.  Emulating  his  exampb>,  the  ministers  and 
members  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  South,  will 
never  depart  from  the  letter  or  spirit  of  the  Discipline.  To 
15 


226  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 

him  the  most  alarming  feature  in  the  history  of  the  times 
was  the  disposition  on  the  part  of  many  to  make  some  "  new 
departure"  either  in  the  doctrine  or  discipline  of  the  Church. 
"Let  us  keep  our  rules  and  follow  our  doctrines,"  were  the 
great  points  to  be  observed  throughout  the  Church.  Let 
all  who  are  disposed  to  reject  the  one  and  neglect  the  other 
remember  that  he  never  felt  safe  but  in  the  observance  of 
both.  Without  servility  he  clung  to  the  great  standards  of 
Methodism ;  let  his  sons  in  the  gospel  follow  his  footsteps. 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  227 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

Southern  University — Bishop  Soule's  Death — Memorial  by 

Bishop  Paine. 

EARLY  in  1867  a  meeting  of  the  Board  of  Trustees  was 
held  at  Greensboro,  Ala.,  to  elect  a  President  for  the 
Southern  University  to  succeed  Bishop  Wightman.  Bishop 
Paine,  \vho  from  the  beginning  had  taken  the  deepest  in- 
terest in  this  institution,  was  present.  Dr.  L.  C.  Garland 
was  elected.  He  was  present,  and  after  mature  consideration 
declined  the  office.  This  was  a  great  disappointment  to  the 
friends  of  the  university.  Dr.  Garland  was  at  that  time 
connected  with  the  University  of  Mississippi.  He  was  a 
man  of  the  highest  culture,  and  was  well  known  in  Alabama 
as  an  educator  inferior  to  none. 

Immediately  after  his  return  home,  on  March  8th,  the 
Bishop  learned  that  Bishop  Soule  had  been  called  from  labor 
to  reward.  He  enters  in  his  diary  just  these  words :  "  Bishop 
Soule  reported  dead.  Great  and  good  man — the  noblest  of 
his  race."  On  Sunday,  April  7th,  he  preached  the  memorial 
discourse  of  Bishop  Soule.  As  this  is  an  excellent  tril)ute 
to  one  the  story  of  whose  life  has  never  been  told,  I  have 
concluded  to  make  it  a  part  of  the  life  of  Bishop  Paine.  It 
is  very  proper  that  these  two  great  men  should  be  thus  in- 
dissolubly  joined.  Let  the  wreath  prepared  by  the  hand  of 
Bishop  Paine  and  placed  upon  the  grave  of  his  venerable 
colleague  be  preserved  here  as  a  fitting  memorial  of  both : 

"At  the  request  of  this  Church  and  congregation,  I  pur- 
pose to  devote  this  hour  to  a  memorial  discourse  on  the 
character  of  the  late  Joshua  Soule,  Senior  Bishop  of  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  South.    The  text  suggested  as 


228  LIFE  OF   ROBERT   FAINE,   D.T). 

apposite  to  the  occasion  is  Joshua  xxiv.  31 :  'And  Israel 
served  the  Loid  all  the  days  of  Joshua,  and  all  the  days  of 
the  elders  that  overlived  Joshua.'    '  Know  ye  not  that  there 
is  a  prince  and  a  great  man  fallen  this  day  in  Israel?'     A 
star  of  the  first  magnitude  has  set.     After  a  long  and  brill- 
iant circuit  of  more  than  seventy  years  through  our  ecclesi- 
astical  hemisphere,  Bishop  Soule  has  calmly  and  majes- 
tically sunk  below  the  horizon,  leaving  the  heavens  still 
glowing  with  the  reflection  of  his  radiant  history.    A  name 
familiar  as  a  household  Avord  to  every  Methodist,  and  known 
and  honored  throughout  America  and  Europe  as  a  leader 
of  one  of  the  hosts  of  Israel,  is  stricken  from  the  roll  of  the 
living,  and  is  transferred  to  the  noble  list  of  those  who  hav- 
ing '  fought  the  good  fight'  are  crowned  by  the  great  Captain 
as  victors  forever.     A  truly  great  and  useful  man  is,  next 
to  divine  grace,  the  richest  and  rarest  gift  of  God  to  hu- 
manity.    And  when  these  qualities  are  vigorously,  and  for 
a  long  period,  wielded  in  the  discharge  of  the  duties  of  a 
high  and  holy  oflice,  why  may  not  the  children  and  friends 
of  Ziou  unite  in  solemn  assembly  to  embalm  and  perpetuate 
the  memory  by  rehearsing  the  deeds  of  their  venerated  but 
departed  friend  and  father?    Surely  he  must  be  greatly  de- 
ficient in  the  feeling  of  reverence  for  exalted  virtue,  and 
have  a  low  standard  of  friendship  and  of  affection,  who 
would  not  consent  to  mark  the  exit  of  such  a  man  with  an 
appropriate  expression  of  an  appreciative  memorial,  and  by 
so  doing  give  to  a  noble  character  its  merited  indorsement. 
We  honor  ourselves  in  honoring  the  w^orthy  dead.    It  is  due 
to  the  living,  as  well  as  to  the  departed.     And  while  we 
would  jealously  guard  the  pulpit  from  desecration  by  the 
discussion  of  inappropriate  subjects,  and  especially  against 
all  falsely  flattering  eulogies  of  frail  humanity,  and  in  this 
particular  case  are  admonished  as  to  tJie  delicacy  of  the 
task  before  us,  by  the  well-known  and  oft-repeated  feeling^i 


BISHOI'   OF   TJIK   M.    K.  CIIL  KCIF,   SOITII.  229 

of  the  deceased  against  ostentatious  obseijuies  and  unde- 
served panei!:yrics,  both  in  funerals  and  biographies,  and 
do  freely  admit  that  all  excesses  of  this  kind  violate  both 
good  taste  and  gospel  simplicity,  yet  are  we  equally  confi- 
dent that  neither  is  infracted  by  a  calm  and  truthful  por- 
traiture of  the  lives  and  deaths  of  the  truly  exemplary  and 
devoted  servants  of  God.  The  Bible  is  full  of  such  memori- 
als, and  even  our  blessed  Redeemer  himself  paused  to  por- 
tray the  character  of  his  beloved  and  stern  forerunner. 
Prompted  both  by  affection  and  piety,  by  our  respect  for 
exalted  virtue,  and  by  the  feeling  which  yearns  to  perpetu- 
ate the  memory  of  the  loved  and  the  lost,  and  which  in- 
stinctively recoils  against  consigning  to  cold  oblivion  the 
names  and  deeds  which  deserve  imperishable  remembrance, 
Ave  meet  to-day  to  lay  our  simple  wreath  of  heart-felt  Chris- 
tian sympathy  and  hallowed  respect  on  the  tomb  of  Bishoji 
Soule. 

"Joshua  Soule  was  the  fifth  son  of  Joshua  and  Mary  Soule, 
and  Avas  born  August  1,  1781,  in  Bristol,  Maine,  then  a 
province  of  Massachusetts.  His  grandfather  was  a  descend- 
ant of  Georofe  Soule,  one  of  the  Piltrrim  fathers  who  came 
from  England  in  the  Mayflower.  His  father  was  for  thirty 
years  the  captain  of  a  vessel,  and  only  ceased  to  follow  a 
sea-faring  life  upon  the  loss  of  his  vessel  during  the  Rev- 
olutionary war.  Agriculture  was  his  em|)loyment  after- 
ward. He  and  his  wife  were  members  of  the  Old  Kirk,  or 
Scotch  Presbyterian  Church. 

"Joshua  Soule  was  from  his  early  youth  remarkable  for 
his  sedateness — '  fearing  the  Lord.'  He  read  his  Bible  nuich  ; 
was  impressed  with  its  holy  truths,  and  never  in  his  life 
swore  an  oath.  Profanity  always  horrified  him.  He  never 
knew  the  taste  of  whisky ;  and  what  is  still  more  remark- 
able, swine's  flesh  was  never  used  at  his  father's  table,  nor 
eaten  by  his  son  during  his  long  life. 


230  LIFE  OF   ROBERT  PAINE,   D.T). 


"The  laborious  and  indomitable  Jesse  Lee,  about  1793, 
visited  that  part  of  Kew  England,  and  was  the  first  ^leth- 
odist  preacher  young  Joshua  ever  heard.  Under  the  min- 
istry of  Lee,  Thomas  Cope,  the  two  Hulls,  Philip  Wagger,  and 
other  Methodist  preachers,  he  became  enlightened  and  awak- 
ened, abandoned  the  stringent  Calvinistic  dogmas  of  the  Old 
Kirk  school,  and  earnestly  sought  for  divine  forgiveness.  A 
peculiarity  of  his  religious  history  is  that  he  could  never 
state  the  exact  hour  or  day  of  his  conversion;  he  knew  the 
week  during  which  his  burdened  soul  experienced  relief,  but 
could  not  name  the  exact  time  when  this  great  event  oc- 
curred. After  a  severe  mental  struggle,  he  received  the 
'witness  of  the  Spirit'  while  praying  in  secret  in  the  morn- 
infj  before  sunrise,  and  then  and  there  became  conscious  of 
his  acceptance  with  God.  This  inward  witness  and  sense  of 
divine  favor  he  retained  to  the  end  of  his  life.  After  due 
examination  as  to  doctrines,  and  prayerful  consideration  of 
his  duty,  he  resolved  to  join  the  Methodist  Church,  but  was 
violently  opposed  by  his  parents  and  friends.  Finally,  how- 
ever, by  his  prudence  and  piety  he  induced  his  father  to 
hear  and  examine  into  the  doctrines  taught  by  the  Meth- 
odist preachers;  and  the  result  was  the  conversion  of  his 
parents  and  their  unitingwith  him  in  the  Methodist  Church. 
Henceforth  his  father's  house  became  a  home  for  the 
preachers,  and  a  stated  place  of  preaching.  These  events 
occurred  in  the  spring  of  1797. 

"  In  1798  he  was  licensed  to  preach,  recommended  for  the 
itinerancy,  and  traveled  under  the  presiding  elder  that  year. 
In  June,  1799,  he  was  admitted  on  trial  in  the  New  En- 
gland Conference,  and  with  Timothy  Merritt,  as  his  colleague, 
traveled  Portland  Circuit.  In  1800  he  was  alone  on  Union 
E-iver  Circuit.  In  1801  his  appointment  was  near  Cape 
Cod.  He  was  ordained  deacon  at  the  close  of  his  second 
year,  by  Bishop  Wliatcoat,  and  at  the  end  of  his  fourth  yeaj' 


BlSflOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  OHUKCH,  SOUTH.  231 

the  same  Bishop  ordained  him  elder.  In  1803,  and  while 
filling  his  fifth  year's  work,  he  was  married  to  Miss  Sarah 
Allen,  in  Providence,  Rhode  Island,  with  whom  he  spent 
fifty-four  years  of  married  happiness,  and  who,  in  1857, 
went  before  him  to  paradise. 

"In  1805  he  was  made  a  presiding  elder, and  his  energy, 
fidelity,  and  great  administrative  talents  became  so  obvious 
as  to  lead  to  his  continuance  in  that  ofl^ce  with  the  excep- 
tion of  one  year  when  he  was  stationed  in  Lynn,  Mass.,  until 
1816,  when  he  was  made  Book  Agent  and  editor  of  the 
MetJiodist  Magazine  by  the  General  Conference.  He  was  a 
member  of  the  General  Conference  of  1808,  held  in  Bal- 
timore, and  drew  up  the  constitution  which  still  stands  as 
such  in  the  Discipline,  and  is  a  monument  of  his  wisdom. 
His  responsibilities  and  embarrassments  as  agent  and  ed- 
itor were  very  gr^at.  Almost  every  thing  was  needed,  and 
yet  he  not  only  saved  the  '  Concern '  from  bankruptcy,  or- 
ganized and  systematized  the  Publishing  House  and  placed 
it  upon  a  sure  basis,  but  edited  with  remarkable  ability  the 
Magazine  as  well  as  the  various  books  which  were  brought 
out  under  his  supervision.  Upon  the  expiration  of  four 
years — at  the  General  Conference  of  1820 — he  was  elected 
Bishop  of  the  Church,  but  declined  to  accept  the  office. 
This  refusal  to  receive  consecration  as  a  Bishop  was  owing 
to  the  adoption  of  certain  changes  in  the  economy  of  the 
Church  which  he  regarded  as  unconstitutional,  tending  to 
render  the  episcopacy  inefficient,  and  destroy  the  whole 
itinerant  system.  Regarding  the  action  of  the  General 
Conference  in  the  premises  as  subversive  of  the  consti- 
tutional division  of  powers,  infringing  upon  the  powers  and 
privileges  of  the  episcopacy  to  such  an  extent  that  it  would 
be  impossible  to  carry  out  efiectually  '  the  plan  of  our  itiner- 
ant general  superintendency,'  he  felt  constrained  to  state  to 
the  General  Conference  his  views  of  their  action,  and  to 


232  LIFE   OF   ROBERT   PAINE,  D.D. 


decline  consecration.  Many  leading  and  excellent  menibeis 
of  the  body,  and  several  of  the  Bishops,  had  favored  the 
action — as  a  peace  measure — i.  e.,  to  satisfy  the  radicalism  of 
the  Northern  representatives  of  the  Church,  and  much  sur- 
prise and  dissatisfaction  was  expressed  at  his  course.  But 
sustained  by  his  own  clear  convictions  of  right  and  duty,  as 
well  as  by  the  concurrence  of  the  senior  Bishop,  McKendree, 
and  many  of  the  Southern  and  Western  delegates,  he  rested 
satisfied  in  his  own  sense  of  duty  discharged.  He  preferred 
a  good  conscience  to  office. 

"In  the  interval  between  1820 and  1824  he  was  stationed 
in  the  cities  of  New  York  and  Baltimore.  It  was  in  May, 
1824,  at  the  General  Conference  held  in  Baltimore,  that  the 
speaker  first  formed  his  acquaintance.  At  this  Conference 
he  was  again  elected  to  the  episcopal  office ;  and  as  the  ob- 
jectionable action  of  the  last  General  Conference  had  become 
unpopular  and  could  not  be  reenacted  after  its  suspension 
for  the  j^ast  four  years,  many  of  those  who  originally  favored 
the  'suspended  resolutions'  had  changed  their  views, he  felt 
it  his  duty  no  longer  to  withhold  his  consent,  and  was  or- 
dained Bishop  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church. 

"  Prior  and  up  to  the  session  of  1844,  Bishop  Soule  had 
been  the  leading  spirit  of  the  episcopacy.  His  travels  and 
labors  extended  over  all  sections  of  the  United  States,  and 
he  was  admired  and  revered  wherever  he  went.  His  min- 
istry was  in  demonstration  of  the  Spirit  and  with  power. 
He  presided  with  consummate  dignity  and  ease  in  the  An- 
nual and  General  Conferences,  maintained  the  integrity  and 
efficiency  of  the  discipline  of  the  Church  both  by  his  pre- 
cepts and  example,  watched  over  every  interest  of  every 
section  of  the  Church  Avith  untiring  zeal,  and  had  the  high- 
est confidence  and  esteem  of  the  great  body  of  citizens  as 
well  as  Christians  throughout  the  land.  *But  when  the  ma- 
jority of  the  General  Conference  of  1844  determined  to 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  '    233 


overlea})  the  barriers  of  the  law  and  constitution    of  the 
Church    by    virtually    deposing    Bishop   Andrew  without 
charges  or  form  of  trial— by  a  simple  resolution  declaring 
him,  in  his  official  character,  unacceptable  to  the  Church  in 
consequence  of  his  connection  with  slavery  by  his  marriairo 
with  a  lady  owning  a  few  slaves— he  threw  himself  as  pacifi- 
cator into  the  path  of  the  tempest,  and  endeavored  to  preserve 
the  unity  of  the  Church  by  postponing  action  on  the  subject 
until  the  voice  of  the  Church  could  be  heard.     All  his  col- 
leagues at  first  joined  him   in  the  effort;  but  it  Avas  soon 
found  that  nothing  could   avert  extreme  measures.     The 
majority  rushed  to  consummate  their  purpose,  and  the  mi- 
nority were  obliged  to  seek  redress  in  a  separation  from  their 
former  relations.    After  the  question  of  separation  had  been 
fairly  submitted  to  the  Southern  Church  according  to  the 
plan  agreed  upon  by  a  large  majority  of  the  General  Con- 
ference, and  acting  under  the  provisions  of  that  plan,  the 
convention  was  held  and  the  Southern  Methodist  Episco- 
pal  Church  was   organized  in    1846   in    Petersburg,   Va. 
Bishop  Soule  adhered  to  it,  as  he  had  a  right  to  do  un- 
der that  compact,  and  began  the  exercise  of  his  office  as 
a  Bishop  in  our  Church.      Rising  superior  to  early  prej- 
udices, to  local  and  personal   attachments,  to  every  selfish 
and  inferior  consideration,  deliberately  and  with  a  degree 
of  moral  sublimity  of  principle  seldom  equaled,  he  united 
himself  with  the  weaker  party— took  up  his  residence  amidst 
strangers,  and  fi-eely  and  fully  identified  himself  with  the 
fortunes  of  the  Southern  Church.    He  planted  himself  upon 
the  constitution  he  had  reported,  and  which  had  been  adopted 
thirty-six  years  previously,  and  upon  that  altar  laid  himself 
as  a  sacrifice  to  princi|)le.     AV^ith  him,  as  with  others,  it  was 
Jiot  attachment  to  slavery,  as  has  often  been  asserted,  but 
devotion  to  constitiftional  law,  to  ecjual  riglits,  and  to  the 
integrity  of  Church  compacts.      He  never  did  and   nevei 


234  LIFE  OF   ROBERT   PAINE,  D.D. 

would  owD  a  slave.  But  he  was  the  Bishop  of  the  whole 
Church,  and  when  it  was  divided  he  felt  bound  to  stand  by 
the  right,  if  it  was  the  weak  side.  Noble,  heroic  man !  Never 
shall  we  forget  the  scene  when  he  ani^unced  his  resolution 
to  immolate  himself  upon  the  altar  of  the  constitution  and 
abide  by  the  fate  of  his  Southern  brethren.  We  all  know 
how  he  has  demeaned  himself  since  then;  how — althougli 
the  senior  Bishop  of  the  college,  aged,  and  often  and  in 
various  ways  deeply  afflicted — he  has  kept  in  the  front  rank 
in  planning  and  laboring  for  the  Church. 

"The  parallelism  between  Joshua,  the  heroic  son  of  Nun, 
and  our  departed  Bishop  is  remarkable.  For  many  long 
and  trying  years  the  trusted  friend  and  faithful  minister  of 
Moses,  whose  fidelity  and  courage  on  one  occasion  sought  to 
save  his  people  from  a  great  error  and  consequent  calamities ; 
who  upon  the  death  of  Moses  became  his  successor  and  the 
successful  leader  of  Israel,  and  the  founder  and  honored 
ruler  of  an  empire  established  by  his  wisdom  and  courage ; 
who  was  the  connecting  link  between  the  old  and  the  new 
dynasties,  and  whose  long,  laborious,  and  useful  life  closed 
at  last  amidst  the  tears  and  regrets  of  the  whole  nation — 
such  a  life  is  remarkably  similar  to  the  history  of  our  lately 
departed  Bishop.  Both  of  them  were  singularly  and  di- 
vinely adapted  to  the  tasks  imposed  upon  them  by  the  prov- 
idence of  God ;  both  w^ere  raised  up  to  meet  the  great  emer- 
gencies of  their  times,  and  were  faithftd  in  all  their  high 
and  holy  trusts;  both  were  rulers  in  Israel,  long  spared  to 
go  in  and  come  out  among  their  respective  charges ;  and  both 
were  brave,  firm  of  heart,  and  of  great  common  sense  and 
devoted  piety.  The  parallelism  also  holds  good  in  their 
deaths  as  in  their  lives.  Both  lived  amidst  the  increasing 
veneration  of  their  respective  generations,  and  both  died 
resigned  and  prei)ared' amidst  the  regrets  of  their  peoples, 
leaving  them  the  rich  legacy  of  exalted  principles  illustrated 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  K.  dlTTKCH,  SOUTH.  235 

by  noble  and  useful  deeds.  And  may  we  not  fondly  hope, 
while  we  devoutly  pray,  that  as  the  influence  of  the  former 
was  effective,  all  his  days  and  all  the  days  of  the  elders  that 
overlived  him,  in  leading  Israel  to  fear  and  serve  God,  even 
ji  people  so  deficient  in  knowledge  and  moral  stability,  so 
the  influence  of  our  beloved  and  honored  Joshua  will  never 
be  lost  upon  our  Christian  people,  but  that  it  will  increase  as 
time  advances,  and  be  permanent  as  the  Church  itself  The 
ai-chitect  of  a  pure  and  n()l)le  life  is  posterity's  greatest  ben- 
efactor, for  he  erects  a  monument  which  marks  the  way  and 
guides  the  steps  of  a  hundred  generations  through  the  wilder- 
ness of  life  to  glory  and  to  God. 

"  The  person  of  Bishop  Soule  was  imposing.  He  was 
about  six  feet  high ;  his  breast  broad  and  deep ;  his  head  ex- 
traordinarily large — so  large  that  he  was  obliged  to  have  a 
block  made  specially  for  the  manufacture  of  his  hats;  his 
cheek-bones  wide;  his  forehead  high;  his  mouth  and  chin 
expressive  of  firmness;  his  eyes  deeply  set,  beaming  with 
intellect,  bespeaking  decision,  and  overhung  with  a  massive 
brow  fringed  with  long  and  heavy  eyebrows  and  lashes 
whose  motions  indicated  unmistakably  his  feelings.  His 
whole  physical  structure  was  perfectly  developed,  evincing 
great  muscular  power  and  capabilities  of  action  and  endur- 
ance. The  whole  exterior  man  was  impressive  and  com- 
manding— a  fit  temple  for  the  noble  soul  that  inhabited  it  I 
His  manner  appeared  to  strangers  reserved,  but  always 
courtly  and  dignified.  Vice  and  folly_  stood  abaslied  in  his 
presence;  he  seemed  intuitively  to  read  the  character  of 
men,  and  was  a  terror  to  the  lazy  and  unftiithful  young 
preachers  who  came  before  him  in  the  examination  of  their 
characters  at  tlie  Annual  Conferences.  His  articulation 
was  slow  and  distinct;  his  voice  a  deep  baritone,  singularly 
sonorous  and  finely  modulated.  While  preaching  his  erect 
attitude,  few  and  significant  gesticulations,  his  rich,  deep- 


236  LIFE  OF   ROBERT   PAINE,  D.D. 

toned  and  musical  voice,  his  perfect  self-command,  combined 
with  his  profound  thoughts  and  associated  in  the  minds  of 
the  auditory  with  the  grandeur  and  goodness  of  the  speaker, 
imparted  to  his  ministry  a  sublime  moral  power.  All  felt 
that  he  had  authority  to  speak  for  God,  for  his  walk  and 
conversation  were  in  heaven;  that  he  had  a  right  to  're- 
prove, rebuke,  and  exhort'  saints  and  sinners,  for  his  whole 
life  was  blameless;  and  that  if  any  man  had  he  certainly 
had  the  right  to  counsel  and  warn  the  Church  to  whose  ex- 
clusive welfare  he  had  unreservedly  devoted  his  whole  en- 
ergies and  means  through  a  long,  laborious,  and  eventful  life. 
We  do  not  know  what  advantages  he  derived  from  early 
education,  nor  the  extent  of  his  subsequent  literary  atta.in- 
ments.  We  are  aware  that  he  became  an  itinerant  preaclier 
at  seventeen  years  of  age,  and  that  for  several  years  his 
work  required  long  and  fatiguing  rides  through  a  new  and 
rough  country,  w  here,  the  presumption  is,  he  had  but  limited 
access  to  books  and  but  little  time  to  devote  to  them.  But 
we  do  know  that  he  studied  the  ancient  languages  and  the 
great  English  classics,  with  which  he  retained  familiarity  to 
the  last.  He  wrote  and  spoke  with  much  correctness,  force, 
and  frequently  with  elegance.  Judging  from  the  ability 
he  displayed  as  an  editor  of  books  and  the  Magazine,  his 
published  essays  and  sermons,  he  was  a  good  scholar  in  all 
the  departments  of  learning  pertaining  to  his  official  duties,, 
both  of  the  pulpit  and  the  press.  His  private  letters  to  his 
old  and  devoted  friend  Bishop  McKendree,  of  which  we 
have  read  and  noW'  have  in  our  possession  a  great  many 
specimens,  display  his  mental  and  moral  peculiarities  very 
clearly.  Even  his  handwriting,  so  bold,  uniform,  and  free 
from  blots  and  errors,  symbolizes  the  man.  Indeed,  how- 
ever different  and  difficult  the  tasks  which  his  varied  and 
eventful  life  imi)oscd  upon  him,  lie  was  always  found  equal 
to  their  proper  performance.     Whether  as  a  manager  of  a 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CIIURCir,  SOUTH.  237 

grent  and  complicated  enterprise,  as  })reaclier,  editor,  finan- 
cier, or  Bishop,  he  never  faiUd  ol'  liigh  success.  And  thus 
he  stood  the  true  test  of  real  greatness.  We  do  not  pretend 
that  he  exceeded  all  othei's  in  all  or  either  of  these  partic- 
ulars, and  we  disclaim  lor  him  the  fascinating  faculty  of 
high  imaginative  power;  but  we  do  claim  that  in  masculine 
strength  of  intellect,  in  wide  range  and  grand  grasp  of 
thought,  in  clearness,  boldness,  and  force  of  expression,  as 
Mcll  as  in  purity,  dignity,  and  consistency  of  a  long  and  use- 
ful life,  few  have  ever  surpassed  him.  God  made  him  for  a 
leader  and  commander  of  the  people,  and  grace  made  him  a 
great  captain  in  Israel. 

"  If  it  may  be  allowed  us  to  enter  into  the  sanctuary  of 
his  social  and  domestic  relations,  we  can  bear  testimony, 
from  an  intiniate  acquaintance  of  more  than  forty  years, 
that  socially  he  was  eminently  agreeable.  He  was  simple 
in  his  tastes  and  habits,  kind  and  sympathizing  in  his 
feelings;  and  while  exacting  upon  himself  as  to  all  his  own 
duties,  and  firm  in  requiring  of  others,  especially  of  preachers, 
a  strict  compliance  with  all  the  obligations  involved  in  their 
official  vows — yet  even  when  in  obedience  to  the  decisions 
of  the  Conferences  he  has  been  compelled  to  administer  a 
public  reproof  to  an  unfortunate  delinquent,  we  have  heard 
his  voice  quaver  with  emotion  and  have  seen  the  tears  stream 
down  his  face.  The  stern,  cast-iron  man  was  gentle  and 
tender  as  a  loving  mother  at  heart.  He  indulged  no  en- 
mities or  rivalries ;  no  envy  nor  self-complacent  airs  of  supe- 
riority; no  ambition,  no  low  greed  of  gain;  no  hankering 
for  luxury  and  ease.  Through  life,  and  to  the  very  last, 
willing — yea,  anxious — to  labor  and,  if  need  be,  die  in  his 
beloved  Master's  work. 

"The  friendship  of  such  a  soul  might  be  expected  to  bo 
true  and  hearty.  He  had  no  trouble  with  his  colleagues. 
He  respected  and  loved  them  all.     But  there  was  a  warmth 


238  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,  D.D. 

and  cordiality  of  esteem  and  love  between  himself  and 
Bishop  McKeudree  which  was  beautiful.  It  transcended 
the  love  of  Jonathan  and  David.  In  his  conjugal  relation 
he  was  happy.  A  helpmeet  in  every  respect  was  his  wife ; 
and  so  fully  was  she  imbued  with  his  feelings,  and  so  con- 
fident that  in  his  long  and  frequent  absences  from  his  family 
he  was  but  doing  his  duty,  that  she  strove  as  best  she  could 
to  supply  the  want  of  his  domestic  influence  by  untiring 
devotion  to  the  interest  of  their  large  family.  She  was  a 
fit  partner  for  her  noble  husband.  All  Avho  knew  them  can 
attest  how  happily  they  lived  together,  and  how  deeply  he 
felt  her  loss  when  in  1857  she  was  called  away. 

"  His  election  and  consecration  to  the  episcopal  oflftce  oc- 
curred, as  already  stated,  in  1824,  and  he  immediately  there- 
after left  his  fiimily,  then  residing  in  Baltimore,  and  taking 
a  Avide  range  of  Conferences  in  those  sections  of  the  country 
where  the  inconveniences  and  difl[iculties  of  traveling  Avere 
the  greatest,  he  traversed  the  North-Avest,  the  West,  and 
South,  A^isiting  the  Indian  tribes  on  our  AA'estern  border,  and 
so  fi^illy  devoted  his  time  to  his  official  AA^ork  that  he  Avas 
absent  from  his  family  ele\"en  months  in  the  year.  And 
this  is  a  fair  sample  of  his  labors  for  many  successive  years. 
So  thoroughly  giA'en  up  Avas  he  to  his  high  and  holy  Avork 
that  Avhen  from  excessive  labor  and  exposure  it  became  im- 
possible for  him  to  endure  the  fatigue  of  traA^eling  on  land, 
he  volunteered  to  visit  California,  and  actually  did  so  Avhen 
his  friends  ttiought  he  Avould  die  on  the  Avay.  His  reply  to 
remonstrances  against  the  journey  was:  'I  shall  start,  sir, 
and  Avould  as  soon  be  buried  in  the  Pacific  Ocean  as  in 
Westminster  Abbey.'  Indeed,  such  AAas  his  love  of  the 
ocean — having  inherited  from  his  father  a  fondness  for  the 
dark  blue  sea — that  many  of  us  suspected  that  he,  like  Dr. 
Coke,  preferred  to  make  the  coral  bed  his  tomb. 

"It  need  scarcely  be  said  that  he  Avas  a  model  Bisliop. 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  2^9 

He  combined  every  quality  for  the  office.  His  thorough  ac- 
quaintance ^^■ith  the  organic  laws  of  tlie  C'hiii'cli,  with  its 
history  and  k^gishxtion — having  been  a  member  of  every 
General  Conference  since  1804  —  'his  giant  intellect,  the 
de])th  and  breadth  of  his  learning,  the  sincerity,  simplicity, 
and  steadfastness  of  his  Christian  faith,  the  purity  of  his 
life,  his  untiring  zeal,  his  indomitable  perseverance' and  in- 
corruptible integrity,  all  united  to  fit  him  for  the  office. 
And  above  all,  his  love  to  Christ,  and  his  unreserved  ded- 
ication of  soul  and  body,  time  and  talents,  to  his  beloved 
Methodism  as  the  means  of  'spreading  scriptural  holiness 
over  these  lands,'  gave  earnestness,  sublimity,  and  success  to 
his  labors  as  a  divinely  appointed  episcopos. 

"  Bishop  Soule's  thorough  acquaintance  with  ecclesiastical 
history,  and  especially  ^vith  the  history,  laws,  and  usages  of 
Methodism ;  his  ^miliarity  with  the  rules  of  order  governing 
deliberative  bodies ;  his  wonderful  self-possession  and  strict 
impartiality,  adapted  him  to  the  office  of  president  of  tlie 
Conferences.  And  then  his  courteous,  dignified,  and  deeply 
impressive  manner  most  admirably  fitted  him  for  the  chair. 
In  the  stationing  council — or,  as  it  is  fi'equently  called  the 
Bishops  cabinet — where  the  utmost  patience,  prudence,  and 
impartiality  are  demanded,  and  where  sound  judgment  and 
great  firmness  should  be  blended  with  true  love  for  the 
Church  and  sympathy  for  the  preachers  and  their  families, 
he  was  preeminently  (pialified  to  preside.  And  it  is  pre- 
sumed that  in  the  tens  of  thousands  of  appointments  made 
by  him  during  more  than  forty  years  of  his  episcopacy,  no 
one  ever  deliberately  believed  that  Bishop  Soule  had  given 
him  his  appointment,  however  hard  and  inconvenient  it 
might  have  been,  from  any  other  motive  than  the  glory  of 
God  and  the  good  of  the  Church.  For  more  than  twenty 
years  we  have  traveled  over  the  fields  of  his  operations,  have 
tracked  his  paths  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  far  West  among 


240  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 

the  Indian  tribes,  and  everywhere  we  have  found  his  name 
a  tower  of  strength,  and  his  memory  an  inspiration  and  a 
blessing  to  the  preachers  and  members.  And  now  that  full 
of  years  and  honors  he  has  slowly  sunk  to  the  grave,  the 
millions  of  Methodists  throughout  the  world  are  exclaiming, 
'  Know  ye  not  that  a  prince  and  a  great  man  has  fallen  in 
Israel?'  while  we  of  the  Church,  South,  especially  realize 
the  bereavement,  and  are  constrained  to  say,  Our  heroic  and 
faithful  leader,  our  brave  and  noble  Joshua,  has  fallen  in 
front  of  our  host. 

"  Such  is  our  feeble  and  imperfect  memorial  of  the  great 
and  good  Bishop  Soule,  one  whom  we  have  long  regarded, 
taken  in  the  entireness  of  his  history,  as  the  noblest  specimen 
of  our  humanity  we  have  ever  known.  That  such  a  man, 
after  seventy  years  of  uninterrupted  and  entire  consecration 
to  the  noblest  ends  that  ever  the  mind  conceived,  should  die 
prepared  and  resigned,  might  be  reasonably  expected.  And 
thus  it  was.  For  many  years  he  was  a  great  sufferer.  Rheu- 
matism, asthma,  and  erysipelas  alternately  tortured  him. 
AVe  remember  to  have  overtaken  him  travelin(>:  with  his 
faithful  wife  in  a  little  wagon  from  Lebanon,  Ohio,  to  the 
city  of  Baltimore,  to  attend  the  General  Conference  in  1840. 
Unable  to  sit  up  or  lie  down,  and  the  cover  of  the  vehicle 
being  too  low  to  allow  him  to  stand  up,  he  performed  the 
entire  journey  upon  his  knees.  It  was  the  only  way  he 
could  get  there,  and  the  interest  of  the  Church  required  his 
attendance,  and  he  went.  Indeed,  long  after  other  good  and 
great  men  would  have  ceased  to  travel,  and  would  have  re- 
tired from  active  and  extended  labors,  like  his  blessed  ant^ 
beloved  predecessors,  Asbury  and  McKendree,  his  indomii 
able  will  and  love  of  God  and  his  cause  bore  him  onward 
amidst  suffering  and  privations.  But  'worn  by  slowly  roll 
ing  years,'  and  borne  down  by  increasing  infirmities  of 
eighty-six  years,  his  end  at  last  drew  near.    Bishop  McTyeire, 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  241 


Dr.  Summers,  Dr.  Green,  and  others,  had  the  privilege  of 
visiting  and  witnessing  the  exit  of  the  patriarch — gathered 
like  the  head  men  and  captixins  of  the  tribes  of  Israel  of  old 
around  the  couch  of  the  dying  Joshua.  Such  was  the  life, 
character,  and  death  of  one  of  the  purest  and  noblest  of 
earth.  May  we  emulate  his  virtues,  that  our  end  may  be 
like  his,  and  join  him  at  last  where  there  is  no  death,  se^v 
aratiou,  or  sorrow ! " 
16 


242  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  RAINE,   D.D. 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

J^^TiLL  Working — Depressed — Sick — Unconscious  for  Months 
—  Providential  Kecovery  —  Kenewed  Preaching  with 
Power. 

AFTER  attending  the  Bishops'  meeting  in  Nashville,  he 
visited  the  old  homestead  in  Giles  county,  Tennessee. 
There  he  stood  once  more  by  the  graves  of  his  father  and 
mother,  and  many  other  loved  ones.  His  reflections  were 
just  such  as  would  be  indulged  by  a  pious  son  while  stand- 
ing over  the  sacred  dust  of  parents  he  loved  so  well.  Aft- 
er .preaching  in  Pulaski  he  started  late  at  night,  on  the 
train,  for  his  home.  At  Decatur  he  came  near  being  killed ; 
but  God  preserved  him,  as  he  still  had  much  work  for  him 
to  do.  During  the  entire  spring  and  summer  months  he 
was  busily  engaged  in  attending  District  Conferences  in 
Mi^issippi  and  Tennessee.  He  was  not  at  all  well.  But 
he  did  not  stop.  He  was  hardly  at  home  for  three  days  at 
a  time,  from  May  till  October.  He  held  District  Confer- 
ences at  Brownsville,  Trenton,  and  near  Soraerville,  Ten- 
nessee. Then  he  visited,  officially.  Holly  Springs,  Verona, 
Water  Valley,  Vicksburg,  Jackson,  and  Natchez,  Missis- 
sippi. 

In  October  he  held  the  Tennessee  Annual  Conference 
at  Clarksville,  and  the  Colored  Conference  at  Jackson, 
Tennessee.  He  also  held  the  Mississippi  Conference  at 
Natchez,  and  the  Louisiana  Conference  at  New  Orleans. 
He  had  now  been  more  than  twenty  years  a  Bishop,  and 
fifty  years  a  preacher.  For  a  half  century  his  life  had  been 
spent  in  constant  labor  in  the  Master's   vineyard ;  yet  he 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  243 

does  not  rest.  The  Master's  voice  calls  him,  and  in  spite 
of  debility  and  j)aiii,  and  often  of  severe  sickness,  he  still 
goes.  Conscience,  duty,  the  Master's  voice,  rise  infinitely 
above  all  earthly  anxieties  or  })leasure.  Bishop  Paine,  amid 
his  "  care  of  all  the  churches,"  had  much  to  depress  him 
in  his  private  affairs.  From  no  fault  of  his  he  had  become 
oppressed  by  debts  which  he  never  contracted.  This  was 
a  sore  affliction  to  him.  His  mind  became  disturbed.  He 
was  sleepless.  He  suffered  much  with  his  head.  He  was 
deeply  conscientious  and  thoroughly  just.  He  had  large; 
planting  in':erests  that  demanded  his  attention  in  order  that 
he  might  relieve  himself  from  the  burden  of  a  large  debt 
which  he  felt  bound  to  j^ay.  Still  he  could  not  neglect  his 
duty  to  the  Churcli. 

In  April,  1868,  he  started  to  Louisville,  Kentucky,  to 
attend  a  meeting  of  the  Bishops.  He  was  suffering  so  that 
his  daughter.  Miss  Ludie — now  Mrs.  John  H.  Scruggs — 
thought  it  her  duty  to  go  with  him.  On  arriving  at  Nash- 
ville he  was  much  worse.  He  could  go  no  farther.  The 
brave,  loving  daughter  determined  that  it  would  be  best  to 
return  home.  With  the  help  of  kind  friends  he  was  pl^iced 
on  the  cars.  When  they  arrived  at  Tuscumbia,  Alabama, 
on  May  12,  he  became  unconscious.  She  determined  to 
convey  him  home.  Upon  their  arrival  he  knew  nothing. 
He  did  not  recognize  his  own  dear,  devoted  wife,  nor  the 
faithful  daughter  whose  cpurage  and  fidelity  had  accom- 
plished what  few  women  would  have  attempted.  From 
the  14th  of  May  to  the  26th  of  July,  he  lay  utterly  uncon- 
scious. He  did  not  recognize  his  best  friends.  He  seemed 
utterly  mindless.  The  fitmily  were  in  the  deepest  sorrow. 
The  Church  mourned.  Prayer  for  his  recovery  was  oflfered 
in  all  places  of  public  worship,  around  many  family  al- 
tars, and  in  thousands  of  closets.  He  was  visited  by  many 
of  the  preachers  and  other-  devoted  friends,  and  all  skid, 


244  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,  D.D. 

"His  work  is  done."  I  was  just  on  the  eve  of  visiting 
him;  he  had  been  my  teacher,  friend,  associate  for  nine 
years.  The  Rev.  W.  C.  Johnson  came  to  see  me.  He  was 
just  from  the  Bishop's  bedside.  He  said  to  me:  *'Do  not 
go.  He  will  not  recognize  you.  He  knows  nothing.  His 
mind  seems  entirely  gone.  I  am  sorry  that  I  went."  80 
taking  the  advice  of  this  excellent  man,  I  did  not  go.  I 
was  then  writing  sketches  of  Pioneer  Methodist  Educators, 
and  prepared  for  the  Memphis  Advocate,  then  edited  by  Dr. 
Johnson,  an  elaborate  account  of  Bishop  Paine  as  an  edu- 
cator, and  placed  him  where  he  belonged,  as  one  of  the 
greatest  pioneer  educators  of  the  Church.  Dr.  Johnson 
published  the  article  with  appropriate  comments.  He  stat- 
ed the  Bishop's  dangerous  and  almost  hopeless  condition, 
and  called  upon  the  Church  to  unite  in  earnest  prayer  for 
his  recovery.  In  this  helpless,  unconscious  state  his  faith- 
ful wife  never  lost  all  hope.  She  waited  and  watched  and 
prayed,  and  hoped  even  against  hope. 

The  following  letter  from  Bisho]:)  Paine  gives  a  full  ac- 
count of  this  mysterious  sickness.  It  was  so  remarkable 
that  I  doubt  not  the  letter  will  be  read  with  the  greatest 
interest.  It  exhibits  the  same  facts  found  in  his  diary,  but 
as  they  are  much  more  minutely  narrated  in  the  letter,  it 
is  given  to  the  reader  just  as  it  came  from  his  hand : 

I  have  had  a  strong  desire  to  write  you  a  long  letter  ever  since 
my  recovery  from  my  illness,  but,  from  one  cause  and  another,  liave 
deferred  it  until  now.  The  sympathy  manifested  for  me  in  my  af- 
fliction by  brethren  and  friends  throughout  the  country  has  deeply 
impressed  me,  and  I  desire  to  express  my  heart-felt  gratitude  for  it. 
;My  illness  and  recovery  were  alike  strange.  The  doctors  attribute 
the  former  to  exhaustion,  caused  by  overtaxing  my  strength;  and 
they  may  be  right.  I  had  labored  almost  constantly  since  our  last 
General  Conference.  On  horseback,  in  stages  and  hacks,  as  well  as 
by  railroads,  I  had  been  attending  district  meetings — losing  rest  and 
Bleep,  and  on  several  occasions  ridirf^  on  horseback  through  drench- 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  24") 

ing  rains,  many  miles.  Last  suiuinor  and  lull  my  health  give  way 
yet  I  still  persisted  to  meet  my  engagements.  In  April  I  snfJere>l 
a  sudilen  and  violent  attaek  while  riding  alone  to  fill  an  appointment. 
I  became  entirely  oblivions,  and  fonnd  myself  lying  on  the  road, 
having  fallen  })recipitately.  I,  however,  got  njistnnned  and  brnised, 
resumed  my  trip,  and  filled  my  appointment.  This  was  followed 
with  considerable  debility,  and  an  incessant  pain  in  my  head.  In 
this  condition  I  started  to  Lonisville,  Kentucky,  to  attend  the  meet- 
ing of  Bishops.  My  indisposition  increased,  and  I  reached  Winches- 
ter, Tennessee,  in  great  pain.  Here  I  was  constrained  to  preach, 
which  greatly  aggravated  my  sufferings.  At  Nashville  I  fonnd  my- 
self utterly  unable  to  proceed,  and  but  for  the  very  kind  hospitality 
of  Brother  Fite  and  his  wife,  and  the  medical  skill  of  Drs.  Martin 
and  Maddin,  must  have  had  the  attack  wlii  li  endued  innnediately 
upon  getting  back  home. 

At  midnight  of  May  12  1  reached  home,  and  from  that  time  until 
July  26  there  is  a  perfect  blank  in  my  memory.  When  I  became 
conscious  of  my  condition,  I  was  utterly  prostrated  in  strength,  my 
nervous  system  in  great  disorder,  and  my  mind  in  some  degree  sym- 
pathizing with  my  physical  condition.  My  restoration  to  conscious- 
ness was  nearly  as  sudden  as  the  attack.  Friends  and  physicians 
gave  me  up.  Some  came  from  a  distance  to  attend  my  burial,  an  1 
my  death  was  currently  reported.  God  raised  rae  up  in  answer  to 
the  prayers  of  the  Church.  His  agents  were  the  tenderest  and  best 
of  nurses,  who  never  left  my  bedside,  and  the  most  skillful  medical 
attention  by  Dr.  Lowe.  To  God  be  all  honor  and  praise.  To 
them,  and  to  all  who  felt  and  prayed  for  me,  I  hereby  tender  my 
earnest  gratitude.  Throughout  this  whole  affliction,  I  have  suffered 
no  uneasiness  nor  doubts  as  to  my  eternal  destiny.  All  was  calm  and 
peaceful.  My  large  and  helpless  family  and  security  responsibilities 
alone  gave  me  anxiety.  And  in  addition  to  these,  the  apprehension 
that  I  would  never  be  able  to  i)reach  the  gospel  or  write  a  line  again 
caused  the  keenest  and  most  depressing  agony  I  ever  felt.  For  I 
was  told  my  work  was  done,  and  that  if  my  life  should  be  prolonged 
I  could  never  labor  again.  What  a  privilege  to  preach  and  do  good  I 
I  am  now  recovering  health  and  strength,  and  do  most  devoutly  re- 
consecrate myself,  myall,  to  Him  "who  loved  me  and  gave  himself 
for  me."  I  am  told  that  my  illness  was  typhoid  fever  of  a  severe 
form.  Whatever  it  was,  I  thank  God  he  has  brought  me  off  without 
any  permanent  physical  ov  mental  deprivation. 


246  LIFE  OF   KOBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 


I  think  I  have  learned  some  important  lessons.  One  is,  that 
jiieaoliers,  as  well  as  others,  sliould  take  care  of  tlifir  health,  and  not 
tax  mind  or  body  too  heavily. 

1  am  anxious  to  resume  my  labors — tried  to  preach  a  little  last 
Sunday;  but  my  physician  and  friends  say  I  must  not  yet  fatigue 
mind  or  body.  But  1  hope  to  be  in  the  field  again  shortly,  and  do 
what  I  can  for  the  souls  of  my  fellow-men.  God  bless  the  Church 
and  give  her  great  prosperity.  R.  Paine. 

P.  S. — During  my  sickness  and  convalescence,  a  great  many  let- 
ters were  received  w^iich  I  could  not  answer,  and  my  correspondents 
will  please  accept  this  explanation. 

Aberdeen,  Miss.,  Sept.  24, 1808. 

On  Wednesday,  May  13,  he  enters  in  his  diary,  "De- 
pressed and  sick."  Then  he  writes  on  July  26:  "Became 
conscious.  Remember  no  one  who  visited  me  nor  any  thing 
since  May  14.  My  faithful  wife  nursed  me  all  the  time 
with  the  utmost  care  and  tenderness.  To  my  God  I  owe 
my  recovery.     I  devote  myself  anew  to  his  service." 

On  September  20,  Sunday,  he  was  able  to  preach.  His 
subject  was,  "The  daughter  of  Jairus."  He  felt  that  his 
own  recovery  was  almost  as  miraculous  as  the  restoration 
ol'  the  daughter  of  Jairus.  His  talk  was  full  of  tenderness 
and  gratitude.  He  was  happy.  He  thanked  God  that  he 
was  able  to  preach  again.  On  the  first  Sunday  in  October 
he  preached  for  the  first  time  in  Aberdeen.  On  this  occa- 
sion he  had  great  liberty.  He  was  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
His  subject  was,  "He  that  hath  this  hope  purifieth  him- 
self." He  was  at  no  loss  for  words.  He  seemed  almost 
inspired.  He  had  not  preached  with  so  much  power  for 
y(.'ars.  The  news  went  through  the  land.  He  was  like  one 
ri*en  from  the  dead.  His  mind  seemed  to  have  undergone 
a  wonderful  transformation.  He  united  the  wisdom  of  age 
with  the  vigor  of  youth.  His  old  friends  listened  with  won- 
dei-  and  admiration  and  great  sniriti  al  profit  Dr.  J.  B. 
McFerrin  said  to  the  writer:  "I  have  never  known  such  a 


BISlIOr  OF  THE'M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  247 

change;  I  call  it  a  resurrection."  And  it  was.  He  became 
more  subjective.  He  testified.  He  "got  happy,"  and  ex- 
pressed his  joy  in  well-chosen  words.  When  the  memora- 
ble 9th  of  Octo])er  came  it  found  him  rejoicing  still  in 
pardoning  and  sustaining  grace  which  he  had  enjoyed  for 
fifty-one  years.  He  never  forgot  that  Sabbath  afternoon, 
October  9,  1817,  at  Davis  Brown's,  Giles  county,  Tennessee, 
when  he  was  so  happily  converted  to  God.  Then  on  Novem- 
ber 12  he  writes:  "My  birthday — sixty-nine.  Thank  God! 
O  to  be  thankful,  holy,  and  useful!"  The  only  Confer- 
ence held  by  him  this  year  was  the  Colored  Conference 
which  he  held  in  Memphis.  This  was  before  the  organiza- 
tion of  the  Colored  Methodist  Episcopal  Church.  He  took 
the  greatest  possible  interest  in  the  colored  race,  as  he  had 
done  all  his  life,  and  strongly  counseled  their  separate  or- 
ganization. He  was  now  employing  all  his  spare  time  on 
the  "Life  of  Bishop  McKendree."  This  was  with  him  a 
labor  of  love.  He  had  been  collecting  and  arranging  ma- 
terials for  years.  He  determined  to  make  the  work  worthy 
of  the  man  who,  next  to  Asbury,  had  been  the  chosen  in- 
strument in  planting  Methodism  in  America.  That  he  did 
so  has  been  the  universal  verdict  of  the  readers  of  the  ''Life 
and  Times  of  William  McKendree,  Bishop  of  the  Method- 
ist Episcopal  Church."  Of  tliis  biography  Dr.  Thomas  O. 
Summers  says: 

"The  General  Conference  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church,  South,  at  its  session  in  Columbus,  Georgia,  May, 
1854,  requested  Bishop  Paine  to  write  the  biography  of 
Bishop  McKendree.  The  Conference  was  happy  in  its 
selection  of  a  biographer  of  the  venerable  Bishop.  Dr. 
Paine  was  for  many  years  intimately  associated  with 
Bishop  McKendree;  he  traveled  witli  him  thousands  of 
miles,  fre(juently  licard  him  ])reach,  assisted  him  in  the 
preparation  of  his  atklresses  to  the  General   and   Annual 


248  LIFE  OF  ROBERT*  PAINE,  D.D. 

Conferences,  and  other  important  papers;  he  was  familiar 
with  all  his  views  of  the  constitution  and  polity  of  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  and  gave  his  cordial  indorse- 
ment ;  he  was,  though  comjiaratively  young,  the  particular, 
confidential  friend  of  the  Bishoj),  and  entertained  for  him 
the  most  devoted  affection  and  veneration  and  he  still  cher- 
ishes for  his  memory  as  a  son  in  the  gospel  the  most  profound 
regard.  He  was  thus  eminently  qualified  to  write  his  biog- 
ra})hy.  Bishop  Paine  was  a  member  of  every  General  Con- 
ference from  1824  to  1844,  at  which  session  the  Church 
was  provisionally  divided.  He  was  consequently  acquaint- 
ed with  the  leading  men  of  the  Church,  and  whose  charac- 
ters are  appropriately  and  impartially  sketched  in  these 
volumes.  In  this  work  will  be  found  a  history  of  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church  down  to  the  time  of  the  death 
of  Bishop  McKendree,  as  he  was  identified  with  its  principal 
movements  from  the  beginning.  Bishop  Paine  has  wisely 
allowed  Bishop  McKendree  to  be  to  a  very  great  extent 
his  OAvn  biographer,  having  made  great  use  of  his  diary, 
journals,  and  other  manuscripts.  These  extracts  exhibit 
the  devotion  and  zeal  of  Bishop  McKendree  and  his  asso- 
ciates. The  work  is  thus  of  immense  value  to  their  successors 
in  the  ministry,  who,  it  is  hoped,  will  be  stimulated  by  its 
perusal  to  reproduce  the  self-sacrificing  spirit  and  labor  of. 
those  holy  men." 

A  man  more  capable  of  judging  of  the  importance 
and  value  of  this  work  our  Church  has  never  produced. 
Dr.  Summers  was  learned,  impartial,  just,  and  yet  fully 
ai)preciative.  The  Bisho})  had  not  rushed  this  work 
through  the  press.  He  had  been  in  no  hurry.  He  was 
now  revising  and  giving  to  the  biography  his  last  finish- 
ing touches.  He  had  read  to  me  portions  of  the  work  in 
1856,  and  would  possibly  have  published  it  at  an  earlier 
period  but  for  the  terrible  wnr  of  four  years  through  which 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  249 

we  had  just  passed.  The  work  was  presented  to  the  public 
in  two  large  duodecimo  volumes  in  the  year  1869.  In  it 
the  reader  will  find  great  variety  and  nuich  instruction. 
His  narrative  is  easy,  his  descriptions  vivid,  liis  portraitures 
of  character  strikingly  life-like,  his  spirit  catholic,  and  his 
reflections  wise  and  pious.  We  can  truly  say  that  he  put 
forth  his  full  strength  as  a  writer  on  these  volumes,  and 
that  they  need  no  eulogy.     They  speak  for  themselves. 


250  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  RAINE,  D.D. 


CHAPTER   XXXV. 

Finishing  the  Life  op  Bishop  McKendree — Hard  at  Work — 
Growing  Old  Gracefully. 

IT  was  in  the  year  1869  that  the  Life  of  Bishop  McKendree 
was  finished.  For  the  first  three  or  four  months  the 
Bishop  was  writing  most  laboriously.  He  was  so  busy  that 
for  days  and  days  he  simply  entered  in  his  diary :  "  Writ- 
ing, writing."  Then  he  determined  to  edit  his  own  work. 
He  staid  months  in  Nashville  superintending  the  publica- 
tion, and  reading  the  proof-sheets.  This  kept  him  very  busy. 
He  did  not  forget,  however,  his  holy  calling.  He  went  to 
many  places  in  the  country  contiguous  to  Nashville  and 
preached.  He  was  often  with  Dr.  A.  L.  P.  Green,  whose 
company  he  most  richly  enjoyed.  With  the  officials  at  the 
Publishing  House  his  intercourse  was  exceedingly  pleasant. 
Dr.  A.  H.  Bedford,  who  was  then  the  Agent,  was  kind  and 
attentive ;  so  that  the  heavy  labor  of  bringing  out  the  two 
vohimes  was  greatly  mitigated  by  the  social  and  religious 
enjoyments.  He  also  visited  many  of  the  neighboring 
towns  and  preached.  He  was  at  Franklin,  Gallatin,  Pu- 
laski, Bogersville,  and  Athens,  Tennessee,  and  at  Tuseum- 
bia  and  Huntsville,  Alabama.  He  also  held  the  Tennessee 
Conference  at  Murfreesboro,  and  the  Colored  Conference 
at  Nashville.  He  was  now  seventy  years  old.  On  the  an- 
niversary of  his  birth  he  says:  "My  seventieth  birthday. 
Thanks  for  so  many  mercies  during  so  many  years.  Eter- 
nal praise  to  the  Father,  and  tlie  Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghost! 
May  my  old  age  be  holy,  useful,  and  serene." 

He  had  been  preaching  fifty-two  years,  and  a  presiding 
Bishop,  traveling  at  large,  twenty-three  years.     He  did  not 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  251 

become  morose.  He  grew  old  beautifully.  To  him  there 
was  no  dead-line  until  he  reached  the  goal.  He  was  hope- 
ful as  to  the  prospects  of  the  Church  and  the  country.  He 
did  not  worry  or  weary  his  friends  with  bitter  complaints. 
God  had  been  merciful.  The  Church  was  appreciative  and 
devoted.  The  preachers  gave  him  their  confidence  and  love. 
His  family  looked  up  to  him  as  the  grandest  of  men,  the 
best  of  husbands,  and  the  most  unselfish  of  fathers.  His 
old  age  was  coming  on,  but  he  hardly  seemed  to  know  it. 
He  was  active.  He  sought  opportunities  to  do  good.  He 
talked  to  the  children.  He  held  District  Conferences ;  took 
full  work  with  his  colleagues  in  attending  the  Annual  Con- 
ferences. He  was  always  and  everywhere  welcome.  He 
was  bright.  His  wit  was  often  pungent,  and  he  would 
often  indulge  in  innocent  humor.  His  memory  was  stored 
with  incidents,  entertaining  and  "good  to  the  use  of  edify- 
ing." He  did  not  seem  to  be  more  than  fifty  years  old. 
His  step  was  quick,  his  eyes  bright,  his  memory  active,  his 
voice  strong  and  clear,  and  both  in  mind  and  body  he 
seemed  to  be  in  the  maturity  of  his  powers.  He  was  a 
beautiful  example  to  preachers  growing  old.  It  is  a  noto- 
rious fact  that  old  preachers  often  outlive  their  usefulness. 
They  become  bitter.  The  w  orld  is  all  going  wrong.  The 
Church  is  backslidden.  They  are  not  appreciated.  Like 
an  old  worn-out  horse,  they  are  turned  out  on  the  commons 
to  die.  Young  men  have  supplanted  them.  Sermons  that 
they  once  preached  with  great  power  and  acceptability  now 
fall  on  deaf  ears,  and  cold  and  unfeeling  hearts.  All  this 
is  true,  and  more.  But  what  is  the  cause?  They  are  them- 
selves to  blame.  They  fail  because  they  cease  to  study. 
They  elaborate  no  new  sermons.  They  depend  upon  the 
old  barrel  which  they  have  been  turning  over  for  a  cpiarter 
of  a  century.  They  never  look  at  the  bright  side  of  things. 
Unfitted  by  long  habit  for  any  business  pursuits,  and  unfit- 


252  LIFE  OF   KOBEKT   PAINE,  D.D. 


ted  by  their  own  waut  of  study  for  giving  interest  to  the 
"old,  old  story,"  they  spend  their  time  in  looking  after 
evils,  in  hunting  up  trouble,  in  anticipating  ruin  to  the 
(.'hurch,  in  finding  fault  "with  the  young,  in  fretting  and 
scolding,  and  thus  have  themselves  alone  to  reproach  for 
their  present  sad  condition.  Because  of  these  facts  there  is 
a  dead-line,  and  few  pass  over  it  and  retain  their  vigor,  their 
acceptability,  and  their  usefulness.  Said  an  excellent  man 
to  me :  "  I  do  n't  know  what  is  to  become  of  us.  The  peo- 
ple in  this  country  do  not  wish  to  hear  a  man  preach  who 
has  passed  his  fiftieth  birthday.  After  that  we  have  to  be 
laid  on  the  shelf"  Why  is  this?  It  is  not  true  of  the 
learned  professions.  A  doctor  or  lawyer  is  in  his  prime  at 
fifty.  The  most  of  the  judges  of  our  high  courts  are  se- 
lected because  of  their  age  and  experience,  and  not  because 
of  their  youthful  vigor.  Lawyers  and  doctors  do  not  think 
of  retiring  from  practice,  nor  doe's  their  practice  leave  them 
because  of  their  infirmities  of  old  age,  when  the  light  burden 
of  only  fifty  years  is  upon  them.  At  the  age  of  seventy 
Bishop  Paine  did  not  think  of  laying  off  the  harness.  His 
seventieth  year  was  one  of  the  most  active  of  his  active  life. 
He  was  writing,  correcting  proof-sheets,  traveling,  presiding, 
making  appointments,  and  preaching  the  word.  His  preach- 
ing was  never  more  acceptable  or  more  powerful.  Since  his 
long  sickness  his  mind  seemed  to  have  undergone  a  radical 
change.  He  had  no  lack  of  words,  choice  and  -.expressive. 
He  seldom  made  a  failure.  He  had  his  subjects  always 
well  in  hand.  Instead  of  crossing  a  dead-line,  he  seemed 
to  have  passed  into  a  world  of  greater  life.  His  imagina- 
tion was  more  regular,  and  its  creations  were  of  the  highest 
order  of  poetic  thought.  His  words  came  unbidden.  His 
passion  glowed.  His  preaching  was  full  of  rich  experience. 
It  was  more  subjective.  It  welled  up  from  a  heart  full  of 
love  and  strong  faith.     In  social  life  he  became,  if  possible, 


BTPHOr  OF  THE  M.  E.  CJIURCn,  SOUTH.  253 

still  more  attractive  than  he  had  ever  been.  His  freedom 
from  all  asperity,  his  playful  and  yet  innocent  mirth,  his 
entire  freedom  from  sour  godliness,  and  all  this  sustained  by 
a  character  of  spotless  purity,  upon  which  the  flight  of  sev- 
enty yeai^s  had  left  not  one  stain,  made  him  the  welcome 
guest  in  all  refined  religious  circles  and  the  beloved  Bishop 
at  all  our  Conferences. 

From  Nashville,  after  passing  a  short  time  at  his  home 
in  Aberdeen,  he  attended  and  held  the  Montgomery  Con- 
ference at  Union  Springs,  and  the  Mobile  Conference  at 
Selma.  In  going  from  Union  Springs  to  Selma  he  slept  on 
the  cabin  floor  of  the  boat  on  which  he  took  passage.  At 
the  Montgomery  Conference  he  had  a  delightful  home  in 
the  family  of  Col.  R.  H.  Powell,  and  at  Selma  he  was  with 
the  family  of  Col.  William  McKendree  Byrd,  his  old  pupil 
and  warm  friend.  I  have  had  occasion  to  refer  to  this. dis- 
tinguished pupil  of  his  in  another  chapter.  He  had  all  the 
elements  of  a  great  man.  He  was  a  distinguished  lawyer 
and  jurist.  He  was  a  brave,  patient,  humble,  liberal,  foith- 
ful  Christian.  A  few  years  after  this  Conference  he  was 
suddenly  killed  by  a  railroad  accident,  just  as  he  was  re- 
turning from  a  mission  of  peace.  His  noble  life,  thus  closed 
in  the  midst  of  extensive  usefulness,  was  an  undying  testi- 
mony in  favor  of  our  holy  religion,  which  he  had  illustrated 
from  his  boyhood.  In  this  pleasant  family,  and  with  this 
devoted  friend,  his  days  at  the  Mobile  Conference  passed 
most  happily.  He  closed  the  Conference  late  in  December, 
1869,  having  thus  finished  a  year  of  constant  labor,  almost 
without  any  rest  at  all,  and  yet  with  much  less  sufi^ering, 
than  in  former  years,  and  with  great  satisfaction  to  himself 
and  much  profit  to  the  Church. 


254  LIFE   OF   ROBERT   RAIXE,  D.D. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

Working  Like  a  Young  Man. 

THE  year  1870  brought  with  it  many  cares,  and  more 
than  the  usual  amount  of  Church  business.  While  at 
home  he  had  but  little  rest.  He  was  settling  debts  con- 
tracted only  as  security  for  others. 

Debt  was  to  him  a  terrible  nightmare.  He  loathed  it. 
He  had  always  tried  to  obey  the  apostolic  injunction,  "  Owe 
no  man  any  thing."  His  own  private  matters  were  always 
kept  in  the  most  systematic  manner,  and  so  as  never  to  in- 
volve himself  or  others.  He  placed  his  name  on  paper  for 
the  benefit  of  dear  friends,  and  of  course  suffered  for  it. 
The  first  part  of  the  year  was  crowded  with  many  annoy- 
ances which  kept  him  very  busy  in  attending  to  temporal 
affairs. 

The  sixth  General  Conference  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church,  South,  was  organized  by  him  in  the  city  of  Mem- 
phis on  May  4.  All  the  Bishops  were  present  except  Bishop 
Early,  who  was  sick  at  his  home  in  Lynchburg,  Ya.  Bishop 
Andrew  was  there,  but  too  feeble  to  perform  any  work.  He 
never  appeared  more  saintly,  and  never  breathed  a  sweeter 
spirit.  But  he  was  not  able  to  preside  in  Conference,  or 
even  to  meet  in  the  councils  of  the  Bishops.  His  feeble 
frame  showed  the  marks  of  decay  and  the  near  approach  of 
the  last  messenger.  His  presence,  however,  was  a  benedic- 
tion to  all.  Bishop  Paine  had  prepared  the  Bishops'  Ad- 
dress, which  was  read  to  the  Conference  by  Bishop  Wight- 
man.  It  was  highly  commended  by  many  of  the  first  men 
in  the  Conference  as  an  able  State  paper.  It  heartily  rec- 
ommended a  training-school  for   preachers,  which  elicited 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  255 


some  oi3position.  Tlii.^,  however,  was  compromised,  and  uo 
other  thau  the  most  charitable  and  Christian  spirit  was  ex- 
hibited. I  have  said  that  while  Bishop  Paine  was  cautious 
and  conservative,  he  was  also  progressive.  He  was  ever 
iil>reast  with  the  age  in  advocating  high  culture  for  men  and 
women,  and  lor  ministers  especially.  He  held  to  all  the  ol9 
landmarks,  as  to  the  doctrines  and  discipline  of  the  Church, 
lie  opposed  all  inroads  upon  strict,  old-fashioned  Methodism 
\\nenever  and  wherever  such  inroads  lessened  piety  and 
caused  a  departure  from  those  doctrines  which  have  ever 
been  regarded  as  vital  to  Methodism.  He  opposed  false 
doctrines,  sinful  amusements,  indulgence  in  any  of  the  forms 
of  fashionable  vice,  with  all  the  earnestness  of  a  Wesley,  and 
with  a  zeal  that  did  not  abate  to  his  dying-day. 

At  this  General  Conference,  John  Christian  Keener,  D.D., 
wad  elected  and  ordained  Bishop.  He  was  taken  from  the 
ranks,  for  although  he  had  been  editor  of  the  Neiv  Orleans 
Christian  Advocate,  he  had  performed  that  work,  in  connec- 
tion with  some  pastoral  labor.  He  was  a  fine  writer.  His 
l>roductions  were  always  marked  by  originality  and  strength. 
lie  was  a  sound  theologian  and  a  good  preacher.  He  had 
niade  his  mark  broad  and  deep  as  a  Christian  minister  in 
!New  Orleans.  He  loved  the  Church,  and  w^as  ready  to 
make  any  sacrifice  for  her  interests.  He  was  of  course  wel- 
comed by  the  Board  of  Bishops  and  by  the  Church  at 
large.  He  has  been  faithful  to  all  the  interests  committed 
to  his  hands. 

After  the  Memphis  Conference,  Bishop  Paine  was  largely 
engaged  during  the  summer  in  attending  District  Confer- 
ences. At  Athens,  Florence,  and  Maysville,  Alabanui;  at 
Bharon,  Starkville,  Holly  Springs,  Sardis,  and  Oakland, 
Mississippi;  and  at  a  country  church  some  thirty  miles  from 
Memphis,  Tenn.,  he  conducted  District  Conferences.  He 
went  directly  from   these  Conferences  to  Louisville,  Ky.. 


25S  LIFE  OF  ROBF-RT  PAINE,  D.D. 


and  preached  in  Broadway  and  Walnut  Street  Methodbt 
churches.     Both  of  the  sermons  were  of  high  order. 

He  held  the  Kentucky  Conference  at  Covington,  and 
returned  to  Louisville,  Avhere  he  presided  over  the  Colored 
Conference.  Thence  he  went  to  the  little  town  of  Sonora, 
and  preached  and  gave  large  assistance  to  the  preacher  in 
a  revival  which  was  going  on. 

From  Sonora  to  Greensburg,  the  seat  of  the  Louisville 
Conference,  he  went  with  other  preachers  in  an  open  wagon, 
and  through  quite  a  rain-fall. 

He  was  near  seventy-one  years  old.  At  this  Conference 
I  was  his  room-mate.  During  the  whole  Conference  he  did 
not  retire  for  rest  before  twelve  o'clock  at  night.  I  said  to 
him :  "  Bishop,  this  will  not  do ;  you  will  kill  yourself" 
He  replied :  "  I  am  obliged  to  do  this  work.  It  cannot  be 
postponed.  It  is  work  in  connection  with  this  Conference, 
and  must  be  done  before  reading  out  the  appointments." 

He  was  greatly  troubled  during  the  Conference,  not 
merely  by  official  labors,  but  by  terrible  charges  of  innno- 
rality  against  a  prominent  preacher.  He  was  grieved  be- 
yond measure,  and  during  the  few  hours  he  was  in  bed  he 
gave  more  time  to  anxious  thought  and  earnest  prayer  than 
to  sleep,  which  he  needed  so  greatly.  Yet  the  elegant  fam- 
ily Avith  which  we  were  domiciled  knew  nothing  of  his 
troubles  or  his  labors.  He  was  bright  and  cheerful  in  their 
presence.  His  stay  with  them  was  a  benediction.  It  was  at 
this  Conference  he  preached  on  "  The  temptation  of  Christ." 
It  was  one  of  the  greatest  efforts  of  his  life,  and  has  been 
seldom  excelled  by  any  preacher  in  any  period  of  the 
Church.  The  conflict  between  Christ  and  Satan  was  por- 
trayed with  wonderful  vividness.  The  persevering  effi'ont- 
ery  of  Satan,  his  repeated  and  cunning  attacks,  and  the 
final  triumphs  of  the  Master,  were  so  painted  that  we  could 
almost  see  the  battle   as  it   raged  in  the  desert.     He  con- 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  257 


tnisti'd  most  vividly  the  teiDptiitloii  in  the  garden  of  Ed.'ii 
and  this  one  amid  the  jagged  rocks    and   barren  sands  of 
the  desert.     The   first  Achini  was   conquered,  but  the  last 
Adam,  weary  and  woi-n,  and   in  solitude  where  no  flowers 
bloomed,  gained  a  victory  whose  glorious  pieans  have  echoed 
along  the  ages  and  would  continue  to  sound  forever.     Then 
his  rej^resentation   of  the  angel  that   came   to  minister  to 
the  exhausted  Son  of  God  was  one  of  the  highest  efforts  of 
a  sanctified  imagination.     We  could  almost  see  the  shim- 
mer and   hear  the  rustle  of  their  wings  as  they  came  in 
troops  to  minister  unto  him.      I  wondered  how  he  would 
descend    from   so   lofty    a   flight.     But    he  came  down  so 
gracefully  as  to  cause  a  shower  of  tears  and  a  burst  of  holy 
emotion  from  the  preachers  rarely  equaled.     When  he  had 
us  all  raised  to  the  highest  pitch  of  excitement  and  won- 
der, he  suddenly  i3aused,  and  with  child-like  simplicity  added : 
"  Brethren,  I  have  always  thought  that  if  I  had  been  among 
the  angels  I  would  have  tried  to  get  there  first."     We  all  felt 
first,  yes,  first — first  among  the  angels  to  get  close  to  Christ. 

After  a  short  visit  to  his  home,  he  left  in  November  for 
Gadsden,  the  seat  of  the  Xorth  Alabama  Conference.  Bish- 
op McTyeire  was  with  him,  and  gave  him  valuable  assist- 
ance. The  weather  was  delightful,  and  the  brethren  as 
genial  as  the  weather.  The  session  was  one  of  the  most 
pleasant  he  had  ever  enjoyed.  Dr.  J.  G.  Wilson  was  the 
Secretary,  and  of  course  did  his  work  well.  A  good  Con- 
ference Secretary  is  a  wonderful  help  to  the  presiding  offi- 
cer. Dr.  Wilson  had  all  the  intelligence,  the  precision,  the 
patience,  and  the  energy  to  qualify  him  for  the  responsible 
position  to  which  his  brethren  called  him.  He  was  then 
actively  engaged  in  the  cause  of  education  as  the  President 
of  the  Huntsville  Female  College.  He  has  been-  for  t'.ic 
last  eight  or  ten  vears  in  charge  of  most  im  )orta;it  work 
in  the  city  of  St.  Louis. 
17 


258  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,  D.D. 

At  the  close  of  this  year  the  Bishop  organized  the  Col- 
ored Methodist  Episcopal  Church  of  America  at  Jackson, 
Tenn.  That  is  to  say,  he  presided  at  their  first  General 
Conference,  and  with  the  assistance  of  Bishop  McTyeire, 
Dr.  A.  L.  P.  Green,  and  a  few  others,  set  off  this  Church 
from  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  South,  and  ordained 
W.  H.  Miles  and  J.  H.  Vanderhorst  Bishops. 

Durino;  the  year  he  had  to  record  the  death  of  the  Rev. 
William  McMahon,  the  last  member  belonging  to  the  Ten- 
nessee Conference  in  1818,  when  Robert  Paine  w^as  ad- 
mitted on  trial.  His  death  left  him  the  only  man  of  all 
who  w^ere  connected  with  the  Conference  in  1818.  All  the 
rest  had  been  called  home. 

I  beg  the  reader  to  review  for  a  moment  this  one  chap- 
ter in  the  life  of  Bishop  Paine,  and  see  what  work  he  did 
in  these  the  seventy-first  and  seventy-second  years  of  his 
age.  He  presided  at  tw^o  General  Conferences,  four  or  five 
Annual  Conferences,  and  eight  or  ten  District  Conferences. 
He  seemed  like  a  man  in  the  j)rime  of  life.  The  senior  Bish- 
op was  an  example  of  energy  the  most  active,  and  of  zeal  the 
most  fervent.  He  was  all  sunshine  in  the  domestic  circle, 
the  powerful  exhorter  in  revivals,  the  man  of  dignity  in  the 
chair,  and  the  peerless  preacher  in  the  pulpit.  His  mind  was 
as  active,  his  memory  as  retentive,  his  judgment  as  accurate, 
his  counsels  as  wise,  and  his  heart  as  genial  and  warm  as  ever. 
There  was  no  "  letting  down  "  either  in  his  efforts  or  his 
aspirations.  His  manhood — intellectual,  moral,  religious — 
was  never  greater  than  when  he  entered  upon  the  seventy- 
second  year  of  his  noble  and  useful  life. 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  259 


I 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

Death  of  Bishop  Andrew — Bishop  Paink  ix  Louisville. 

N  February,  1871,  Bishop  Aiidrew  ceased  from  labor,  and 
entered  into  his  eternai  rest.  His  death  left  Bishop  Paine 
the  only  survivor  of  the  original  College  of  Bishops  who  in 
1846  were  placed  in  charge  as  chief  pastors  of  the  Method- 
ist Episcopal  Church,  South.  Souie,  Capers,  Andrew — no- 
ble, gifted,  pious,  apostolic  men  every  one  of  them — had  been 
called  from  the  Church  militant  to  the  Church  triumphant. 
To  fill  the  places  occupied  by  them  were  Wightman,  Dog- 
gett,  Marvin,  McTyeire,  and  Keener,  who  had  been  elected 
and  ordained  since  1865.  Then  he  had  with  him  Bishops 
Pierce  and  Kavanaugh,  who  had  been  his  colleagues  since 
1854.  Thus  had  the  growth  of  Southern  Methodism  de- 
manded increase  in  the  general  superinteudency.  In  less 
than  a  quarter  of  a  century  its  progress  had  been  such  as 
to  demand  the  doubling  of  the  episcopal  forces.  The  death 
of  Bishop  Andrew  was  not  unexpected.  He  had  been  un- 
able to  do  effective  work  for  five  years,  and  was  himself  in 
daily  expectation  of  his  call  to  other  and  brighter  fields. 
He  died  universally  loved  and  regretted.  The  Board  of 
Bishops  met  in  May  in  Nashville,  and  held  suitable  memo- 
rial-services in  honor  of  their  departed  brother.  Bishop 
Pierce*  delivered  the  sermon  in  McKendree  Church.  He 
almost  felt  as  if  he  was  delivering  the  funeral-oration  over 
his  own  father,  so  dear  was  Bishop  Andrew  to  him.  Im- 
mediately after  the  meeting  in  Nashville,  Tenn.,  Bishop 

*  While  these  pages  are  passing  tlirougji  tlie  press,  the  sad  intel- 
ligence reaches  us  of  the  death  of  Bishop  Pierce,  at  Sunshine,  near 
Sparta,  Ga. 


260  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,  D.D. 


Paine  came  to  Louisville,  accompanied  by  his  accomplished 
daughter.  Miss  Ludie,  now  the  wife  of  Rev.  John  H.  Scruggs. 
They  were  the  welcome  guests  of  his  old  pupil,  the  present 
writer.  The  District  Conference  was  held  in  Louisville, 
Ky.  Bishop  Paine  presided  to  the  satisfaction  and  profit 
of  all. 

We  had  at  that  time  an  association  of  young  men  con- 
nected with  the  Broadway  Church.  It  was  called  the  "  Band 
of  Brothers."  By  iiivitation  the  Bishop  attended  a  meeting 
and  delivered  a  lecture,  which  so  pleased  the  band  that  they 
insisted  on  his  delivering  an  address  in  the  main  auditorium 
of  the  church,  and  that  a  general  invitation  be  extended  to 
the  people  to  come  and  hear  it.  He  partially  consented  to 
do  this.  Upon  the  strength  of  the  partial  promise,  the  ap- 
pointment was  made.  It  was  during  the  session  of  the  Dis- 
trict Conference,  which  was  being  held  at  another  church. 
Brother  Brush,  the  excellent  presiding  elder,  suggested  to 
the  Bishop  that  for  him  to  lecture  at  Broadway  while  the 
session  was  being  held  at  another  church  might  work  harm. 
It  might  arouse  unkind  feelings  between  the  churches.  At 
once  the  Bishop  declined  delivering  the  lecture.  He  would 
never  under  any  circumstances  be  the  cause  of  strife  in  the 
Church  of  Christ.  He  must  be  and  he  would  be  the  pro- 
moter of  peace.  The  disappointment  was  great.  A  lect- 
ure, however,  was  delivered  by  another  party.  I  pitied  the 
substitute,  but  the  Spirit  rested  upon  him,  and  he  delivered 
about  the  best  talk  of  his  life.  The  speaker  soon  forgot  his 
embarrassment,  and  made  an  effective  appeal  in  behalf  of 
truth  and  virtue  and  of  the  claims  of  the  Band  of  Brothers. 

I  have  before  referred  to  Bishop  Paine's  intense  love 
for  the  Church.  It  was  a  deep,  enthusiastic  passion  in 
him.  It  glowed  and  thrilled  through  his  great  soul  like 
a  spiritual  flame.  It -knew  no  abatement  during  his  whole 
life.     He  loved  youno;  men,  and  was  anxious  to  make  the 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  261 

address  for  wliicli  the  call  had  been  so  earnest  and  entirely 
unanimous.  But  when  the  presiding  elder  suggested  that 
harm  might  come  to  the  Church,  he  positively  declined. 

During  the  whole  of  this  year  he  continued  to  travel  and 
attend  to  all  the  duties  of  a  chief  pastor.  He  preached. 
He  baptized.  He  instructed  seekers  of  religion.  He  la- 
bored incessantly  from  the  Mississippi  to  the  Atlantic,  and 
from  the  Ohio  to  the  Gulf.  He  attended  the  Eastern  (Con- 
ferences, and  was  at  Lynchburg,  Kichmond,  Norfolk,  Ports- 
mouth, in  Virginia;  at  Raleigli  and  Charlotte,  North  Caro- 
lina; at  Spartanburg  and  Columbia,  South  Carolina — in  all 
of  which  places  he  preached.  He  was  also  preaching  and 
holding  District  Conferences  at  different  points  in  Tennes- 
see and  Alabama.  He  held  one  at  Tuscaloosa.  This  city 
was  a  very  small  village  in  1819  when  he  was  the  circuit 
preacher.  Now  it  was  a  thriving  and  beautiful  city,  the 
seat  of  the  State  University,  and  the  home  of  refinement 
and  hospitality.  In  1819  he  had  gone  from  the  village  of 
Tuscaloosa  into  the  Choctaw  Nation  of  Indians,  then  occu- 
pying the  borders  of  the  State,  for  the  purpose  of  forming 
a  mission.  Now  the  Indians  had  all  been  removed  to  the 
west  of  the  "  Great  Father  of  Waters,"  and  he  had  visited 
them  often  and  endeavored  not  only  to  preach  to  them  but 
to  do  all  a  Bishop  could  to  advance  their  spiritual  interests. 


202  LIFE   OF   ROBERT   PAINE,  D.J). 


CHAPTER   XXXVIII. 

Central  University. 

EARLY  in  the  year  1872  an  educational  convention  ^vas 
held  at  Memphis,  Tenn.,  which  was  attended  l)y  the 
Bishop.  The  object  of  this  convention  was  to  adopt  some 
plan  by  which  a  great  central  university  could  be  established 
at  some  place  in  the  South.  It  was  attended  by  many  of  our 
progressive  men,  both  from  the  clergy  and  laity.  Conspic- 
uous among  the  laymen  was  Judge  Milton  Brown,  of  Jack- 
son, Tenn.  Bishop  Paine  had  been  in  the  front  fol*  nearly 
fifty  years  as  an  educator.  He  was  one  of  the  founders  of 
La  Grange  College,  and  had  presided  over  it  for  nearly  six- 
teen years.  He  was  present  at  the  birth  of  the  Southern 
University  at  Greensboro,  Ala.,  and  was  the  President  of 
its  Board  of  Trustees.  It  would  not  do  for  the  old  man, 
pressed  as  he  was  with  the  "care  of  all  the  churches"  and 
with  private  business,  to  be  absent  from  this  most  important 
educational  convention  held  since  the  war.  All  our  insti- 
tutions of  learning  had  been  crippled,  and  some  of  them 
had  been  destroyed,  by  the  war  and  its  terrible  results.  At 
the  convention  in  Memphis  it  was  determined  to  raise  a 
million  of  dollars,  and  to  establish  a  university  with  a  the- 
ological department  as  an  integral  part.  The  wise  and  true 
men  of  this  convention  did  not  locate  their  great  university. 
They  did  not  know  from  what  source  the  money  was  to  come, 
but  they  had  faith  in  God  and  in  their  great  cause. 

It  will  be  seen  after  awhile  how  and  from  whence  the 
money  came,  and  it  will  also  be  seen  that  the  Bishop  was 
present  when  the  foundation-stone  was  laid,  and  assisted  in 
the  ceremonies.     In  jNIarch  of  this  year,  the  Baltimore  Con- 


HI8II()r   or   THE   M.   K.  CIIUIICII,  SOUTH.  263 

ference  held  its  session  at  Warrenton,  Va.  Bishop  Paine 
was  to  })resi(le,  and  on  his  way  j)asso<l  throuirh  Lynchburg, 
and  had  an  interview  with  his  venerable  colleague  Bishop 
Early,  who  was  rapidly  declining.  He  found  his  dear  old 
friend  calm  and  trustful,  ready  to  depart  and  be  with  Christ. 
He  also  stopped  at  Washington  City,  and  preached  in  Mount 
Vernon  Place  Church.  Congress  was  in  session,  and  he 
saw  and  heard  some  of  the  great  men  of  the  nation. 

On  his  way  home  from  the  Baltimore  Conference,  he 
stopped  at  Corinth,  Miss.,  and  assisted  in  the  quarterly- 
meeting  services  then  going  on.  He  preached  on  "There 
is  joy  in  the  presence  of  the  angels  of  God  over  one  sinner 
that  repenteth."  "Joy  everywhere,"  said  the  Bishop,  "ex- 
cept among  the  wicked  on  earth  and  the  devils  in  hell." 

He  had  a  pleasant  call  in  April  to  officiate  in  the  marriage 
of  Ellen  Virginia  Saunders,  the  daughter  of  his  old  friend 
Col.  James  E.  Saunders,  to  Mr.  McFarland.  It  was  to  him 
and  his  old  friends  Col.  and  Mrs.  Saunders  a  most  delight- 
ful reunion.  These  were  friends  true  and  tried.  They  loved 
each  other  with  a  tenderness  and  warmth  such  as  existed  be- 
tween David  and  Jonathan.  Two  men  never  agreed  better 
than  BishojD  Robert  Paine  and  Col.  James  E.  Saunders. 
For  more  than  half  a  century  they  were  like  brothei's. 
Their  high  culture,  their  genial,  social  feelings,  their  rich 
experience  in  divine  things,  their  common  struggles  in  the 
cause  of  religious  education,  and  the  similarity  of  their  views 
on  nearly  all  great  matters  relating  to  Church  or  State,  fitted 
them  for  mutual  companionship  and  united  them  together 
as  by  hooks  of  steel.  The  wife  of  Col.  Saunders  was  also 
a  great  favorite  with  the  Bishop,  and  he  really  looked  upon 
them  as  brother  and  sister.  (Col.  Saunders  was  a  step- 
brother of  the  Bishop's  wife.) 

Soon  after  this  pleasant  visit  to  his  old  Alabama  friends 
he  commenced  his  work  on  the  District  Conferences.    Afler 


2<)4  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 


holding  three  of  these,  he  went  to  the  Bishops'  meeting  in 
]S^ashville,  Tenn.  The  Bishops  harmonized  on  the  location 
of  the  great  Central  University.  After  leaving  Nashville 
he  stopped  in  Giles  county,  and  held  a  District  Conference. 
It  was  a  joy  to  him  to  be  among  the  hills  of  old  Giles  coun- 
ty again.  The  Conference  was  held  among  the  hills  on 
Bradshaw's  Creek.  He  had  to  ride  on  horseback,  but  he 
was  glad  to  do  that.  It  reminded  him  of  1817.  He  met 
with  the  Abernathys,  Browns,  Ballentines,  Howells,  Mar- 
tins, and  others,  whose  families  had  known  him  in  his  boy- 
hood. Here  his  father  had  lived  and  been  honored  and 
loved.  Here  many  of  his  loved  ones  Avere  buried.  But 
few  were  now  living  who  were  men  and  women  when  he 
left  his  home  for  the  life  of  an  itinerant  preacher.  Some 
ol'  his  old  pupils  were;  there  to  remind  him  of  his  labors 
at  La  Grange  College.  He  continued  at  such  work  all 
through  the  summer.  In  Tennessee,  Alabama,  and  Missis- 
sippi he  was  traveling,  j^residing,  preaching.  At  Athens 
and  Huntsville,  Ala.,  at  Union  City  and  Dresden,  Tenn,, 
and  at  Friar's  Point  and  Greenville,  Miss.,  he  held  these 
Conferences,  as  also  at  other  places.  But  I  mention  these 
to  show  the  extent  of  his  travels.  He  Avas  all  over  West 
Tennessee,  North  Alabama,  and  a  large  portion  of  Missis- 
sippi. He  preached  on  every  Sabbath  and  often  during 
the  week.  The  summer  was  intensely  hot,  the  thermome- 
ter reaching  98,  but  he  did  not  stop,  although  often  much 
exhausted  by  his  labors  and  at  times  suffering  with  rheuma- 
tism. In  November  he  held  the  Virginia  Conference.  On 
his  way  to  Petersburg,  he  stopped  again  to  see  Bishop  Ear- 
ly, whom  he  found  rapidly  failing.  The  old  soldier  Avas 
ready  to  exchange  the  cross  for  the  crown.  He  stopped  in 
AVashington  City,  and  also  at  Baltimore,  preaching  in  Trin- 
ity Church.  He  says  the  sermon  was  too  long,  and  that  it 
lacked  simplicity.     I  have  no  means  of  knowing  how  it 


LrsiIOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CIIURC'ir,  SOUTH.  265 

was  regarded  by  the  vei*y  large  congregation  that  listened 
to  it. 

The  Virginia  Conference  was  held  in  AVashington  Street 
Church,  Petersburg.  jNIany  sacred  memories  crowded  upon 
the  Bishop.  Here,  with  William  Capers,  he  was  ordained 
by  Bishops  Soule  and  Andrew  to  the  office  of  Bishop  in  the 
Church  of  God.  Of  these  all  were  gone  but  himself.  After 
the  close  of  the  Virginia  Conference  he  went  immediately  to. 
Fayetteyille,  North  Carolina,  and  held  that  Conference. 

Without  a  day's  rest,  after  all  the  fatigue  and  labor  of  an 
Annual  Conference,  he  hurried  on  to  Anderson,  South  Car- 
olina, the  seat  of  the  South  Carolina  Conference.  He  had 
been  detained  by  snow  on  the  track,  and  did  not  arriye  at 
Andei'son  until  after  the  org-anization  of  the  Conference. 
He  immediately  took  the  chair  and  conducted  the  Confer- 
ence through  its  business  to  the  close.  There  is  no  labor 
more  trying  on  a  man  of  heart,  as  was  Bishop  Paine,  than 
the  work  of  a  Methodist  Annual  Conference.  For  hours 
he  has  to  occupy  the  chair,  keep  order,  decide  upon  ques- 
tions of  law,  etc.  Then  at  night  with  his  cabinet  he  must 
look  oyer  the  entire  work  and  examine  impartially  the  fit- 
ness of  each  preacher  for  any  work  for  which  he  may  be 
nominated.  Then  there  are  difficult  questions  to  be  solved, 
hard  cases  to  determine.  All  these  tend  to  wear  out  the 
constitution  of  a  Bishop,  Avho  has  to  assume  the  whole  re- 
sponsibility for  every  appointment.  Our  Bishop  was  now 
seventy-three  years  old,  and  if  he*Nvas  not  abundant  in  la- 
bors, then  was  Paul  himself  an  idler  in  his  jNIaster's  vine- 
yard. He  was  fulfilling  his  vows  and  going  all  the  time. 
That  is  the  glory  of  jNIethodism.  It  goes.  The  inspiring 
word  which  moves  the  whole  moral  machinery  of  the  Church 
is  go.  To  the  inspiration  of  that  one  short  word  does  Meth- 
odism owe  nuich  of  its  jDOwer  and  its  wonderful  success  at 
home  and  abroad. 


206  LIFE  OF   R0BP:RT   PAINE,    D.D. 

The  year  1873  was  saddened  at  the  beginning  by  the  death 
of  Dr.  W.  A.  S3'kes,  of  Aberdeen,  Miss.  He  had  been  the 
life-long  friend  of  the  Bishop.  For  nearly  fifty  years  they 
had  enjoyed  each  other's  confidence  and  love.  He  was  a 
Christian  gentleman  of  great  moral  worth,  and  his  death  was 
a  source  of  grief  to  the  Bishop  as  well  as  to  his  own  family. 
He  felt  that  he  was  losing  a  brother  beloved.  He  preached 
ihe  funeral-sermon  on  the  text,  "If  a  man  die,  shall  he  live 
again?"  The  doctrine  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul  is 
one  very  dear  to  all  followers  of  Christ.  In  this  is  seen  the 
dignity  of  human  nature,  and  upon  it  is  predicated  the  pre- 
oiousness  of  redemption.  Man  is  immortal,  and  as  closely 
allied  to  angels  as  he  is  to  earth  and  worms.  He  shall 
live  again.  This  was  the  inspiring  theme  of  that  funeral- 
sermon  over  the  dust  of  a  dearly  loved  friend.  Then 
Dr.  Sykes  had  died  in  tlie  faith,  and  the  reunion  of  these 
friends  of  each  other  and  friends  of  Christ  was  assured. 
How  gloriously  beautiful  is  our  holy  religion !  Its  beauty 
never  shines  with  a  more  inspiring  radiance  than  amid  ^he 
darkness  and  sorrow  of  death.  Then  it  not  only. softens 
sori'ow,  but  absolutely  hushes  the  sighs  and  wipes  away  the 
tears  of  grief  amid  hopes  which  death  itself  cannot  dispel. 
A^'^hile  this  religion  gave  the  preacher  comfort,  it  enabled 
him  to  speak  words  of  consolation  to  the  sorrowing  family 
of  his  old  friend- 
As  we  proceed  with  the  history  of  Bishop  Paine  we  are 
astonished  at  two  things:  First,  his  ability  to  work.  He 
was  now  in  his  seventy-fourth  year,  and  yet  he  continued 
to  do  full  work.  Secondly,  we  are  equally  astonished  at 
his  capacity  to  endure.  He  was  most  severely  attacked 
with  inflammatory  rheumatism  on  February  10,  after  great 
exposure  in  attending  the  funeral  of  a  friend  who  had  died 
some  distance  from  Abei'deen,  and  whither  he  had  to  go  on 
hoi-seback.     He  was  closely  confined  with  this  terrible  iral- 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  2G7 

ady  until  the  1 1th  of  April,  exactly  two  months.  The  most 
excruciating  agony  of  these  two  months  no  one  ever  knew. 
He  bore  as  i)utiontly  as  he  labored  actively.  He  suffered 
with  resignation  and  with  hope.  He  was  so  much  improved 
in  April  that  he  took  a  ride,  and  rnade  this  note  in  his  diary: 
"My  ankles  and  wrists  still  suifering.  Thank  God  for  the 
prospect  of  getting  well  and  doing  service  again ! " 

The  Bishops'  meeting  called  him  to  Nashville  in  May, 
while  still  suffering  from  a  horrid  cough,  which  had  fol- 
lowed and  accompanied  the  severe  attack  of  rheumatism. 
This  was  an  important  meeting,  as  besides  the  ordinary  bus- 
iness the  Vanderbilt  University  was  to  be  located. 

Through  the  personal  though  silent  influence  of  Bishop 
McTveire,  Commodore  Cornelius  Vanderbilt  had  determined 
to  make  a  large  donation  to  establish  a  great  university  in 
the  South,  and  not  far  from  Nashville,  Tenn.  In  view  of 
the  great  liberality  of  the  wealthy  New  Yorker,  the  Central 
University  was  merged  into  this  institution,  and  in  honor  of 
the  generous  founder  it  was  to  be  called  by  his  name.  At 
the  meeting  of  the  Bishops,  ^Nlay  8,  1873,  the  Vanderbilt 
University  was  located,  at  the  West  End  of  the  city  of 
Nashville,  where  it  noAV  stands  "a  sublime  pile,"  eliciting 
the  admiration  of  a  grateful  Church.  Nothing  in  the  his- 
torv  of  education  as  connected  with  Methodism  had  so  grat- 
ified the  Bishop  as  the  founding  of  this  great  university. 
None  of  our  institutions  had  been  so  richly  endowed  as  was 
necessary  to  put  them  in  the  front  rank.  Now,  he  felt,  we 
Avill  have  what  had  long  been  the  desire  of  his  heart.  He 
had  labored  and  groaned  over  a  college  witliout  endowment 
for  nearly  twenty  years,  and  had  given  to  it  the  best  years 
of  his  mature  manhood.  He  had  lived  to  see  the  institution 
pass  into  the  control  of  the  State  and  become  the  Normal 
College  of  Alabama.  Over  two  hundred  thousand  dollars 
of  endowment  had  been  swept  from  the  Southern  Univer- 


268  LIFE  OF   ROBERT  RAINE,  D.D. 

sity  by  the  disasters  of  war.  And  although  the  institution 
was  still  struggling,  he  had  l)ut  little  hope  of  seeing  it  pros- 
perous in  his  day.  So  it  was  witli  most  of  our  Methodist 
colleges.  In  Alabama  alone  two  had  been  lost  to  the 
Church  and  given  to  the  State  because  of  the  impoverished 
condition  of  the  country  and  the  loss  of  the  endowments  in 
both  instances.  The  college  Avhich  he  had  founded,  labored 
for,  and  loved  lost  more  than  fifty  thousand  dollars;  and 
the  one  at  Auburn,  in  East  Alabama,  had  lost  one  hundred 
thousand  dollars,  and  had  been  made  the  Agricultural  and 
Mechanical  College  of  Alabama.  No  one  man  rejoiced 
more  over  the  magnificent  gift  of  My.  Vanderbilt.  He  felt 
that  the  success  of  Bishop  McTyeire  was  his.  He  felt  that 
now'  the  Church  would  have  a  university  worthy  the  name. 
As  he  took  in  the  grand  view  from  the  site  selected,  his  soul 
exulted  at  the  prospect  of  an  advance  in  Church  education 
such  as  he  had  hardly  hoped  to  witness.  It  must  have  been 
a  gratification  beyond  expression  to  Bishop  McTyeire  when 
he  saw  his  veteran  colleague  taking  an  interest  so  profound 
in  the  success  of  an  enterprise  which  lay  so  near  his  own 
heart,  and  which  he  hoped  was  now  almost  assured. 

In  company  with  Dr.  Summers,  he  went  to  the  Sharon 
District  Conference  at  Bethphage,  Tennessee.  He  enjoyed 
the  hospitality  of  his  old  Tennessee  friends  very  much.  He 
w^as  pleased  w^ith  the  spirit  of  the  preachers  and  the  religious 
power  of  the  people.  It  was  a  time  of  refreshing  from  the 
presence  of  the  Lord.  After  the  District  Conference  was 
over,  at  which  he  had  presided  and  preached  to  the  edifica- 
tion of  all,  he  returned  to  his  home  just  in  time  to  be  at  the 
funeral  of  Senator  Phelan.  The  Senator's  wife,  w^hose  death 
has  been  referred  to  in  these  pages,  had  been  a  deeply  pious 
Christian.  The  Senator  was  also  a  member  of  the  Method- 
ist Church,  a  man  of  large  soul,  and  a  devoted  friend  of  the 
Bishop.     He  had  been  a  member  of  the  United  States  Sen- 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHUR(^H,  SOUTH.  209 

ate,  and  was  just  iu  the  prime  of  his  manhood.  His  death 
was  a  h)ss  to  the  Church  and  to  the  country,  and  was  deeply 
felt  by  the  Bishoj). 

He  continued  to  travel  and  preach  and  hold  District  Con- 
ferences all  through  the  hot  sunnuer  of  18713.  He  passed 
from  a  District  Conference  near  Clarksville,  Tenn.,  to  Cof- 
feeville,  Miss.,  and  at  ditierent  places  between  these  two 
points  he  was  at  camp-meetings,  quarterly-meetings,  and 
country  churches,  preaching  like  a  young  man.  On  Fri- 
day, November  7,  he  records  the  death  of  another  of  his 
colleagues,  Bishop  John  Early.  He  had  enjoyed  sweet 
communion  with  his  venerable  brother  twice  during  his 
long  confinement.  He  had  found  him  resigned  and  ready, 
and  his  death  was  not  unexpected.  Thus  had  he  seen  four 
of  his  colleagues  pass  from  the  College  of  Bishops  on  earth 
to  the  society  of  apostles  and  martyrs  in  heaven.  Bishop 
Early  was  in  his  eighty-eighth  year,  and  had  been  on  the 
retired  list  since  1866.  Sometimes  abrupt  and  apparently 
arbitrary,  he  was  always  true.  He  lovecWthe  cause  of  Christ 
above  all  things  else,  and  had  been  consecrated  to  it  nearly 
all  his  long  life.  Bishop  Paine  preached  his  funeral-sermon 
in  Aberdeen,  on  Sunday,  the  16th  of  November.  He  held 
the  North  Mississippi  Conference  at  Grenada,  the  North 
Georgia  at  Newnan,  Ga.,  and  the  South  Georgia  Confer- 
ence at  Macon. 

During  this  tour  of  Conferences  he  passed  into  his  seven- 
ty-fifth year.  He  makes  his  usual  record  of  gratitude  to 
God  for  his  numerous  mercies.  Although  it  had  been  a 
year  of  great  and  constant  labor,  and  for  months  of  very 
great  sufiTering,  he  forgets  both  in  the  grateful  recollection 
of  so  many  mercies  and  blessings  bestowed.  So  he  contin- 
ued to  grow  old  gracefully,  possessing  none  of  the  bitterness 
M'hich,  alas!  too  frequently  is  characteristic  of  old  age.  He 
had  labored  much,  suffered  much,  and  enjoyed  more.     His 


270  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 

Spirits  were  still  cheerful,  and  he  rejoiced  tliat  there  was  a 
brioht  side  to  human  life  on  which  he  loved  to  look.  He 
was  no  croaker,  no  chronic  complainer.  God  was  good; 
the  Church  was  loving;  his  children  were  devoted;  and 
above  all  else  of  a  mere  earthly  nature,  he  had  been  blessed 
for  more  than  the  third  of  a  century  with  the  tenderest  love 
of  a  pure  Christian  wife.  For  all  these,  and  for  the  success 
of  the  ministry  and  the  growth  of  the  Church,  he  was  abun- 
dantly thankful. 

With  such  an  example  before  us  as  was  Bishop  Paine,  let 
the  preachers  of  this  day  look  up  and  be  thankful.  Let 
them  exhaust  the  blue  of  the  sky,  the  green  of  the  earth, 
the  beauties  of  nature,  and  the  power  of  divine  grace,  before 
they  make  themselves  the  terror  of  others  by  croaking  worse 
than  the  ravens,  or  by  complaints  harsher  than  the  cry  of  the 
bittern. 


BISHOP  OF  Tin:  m.  e.  church,  south.  271 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

Inner  Life — Vanderbilt  University — (Jeneral  Conference. 

THE  inner  life  of  the  best  men  is  sometimes  concealed 
from  their  most  intimate  friends.  They  are  not  dem- 
onstrative. They  do  not  care  to  obtrude  their  secret 
comnmnings  Avitli  God  before  the  public.  These  feelings 
are  so  sacred  that  they  are  withheld  from  the  public  gaze. 
I  am  sure  that  those  on  the  most  intimate  terms  with  Bish- 
op Paine  were  not  made  acquainted  with  the  depth  and  fer- 
vor of  his  religious  feelings.  He  kept  them  to  himself.  His 
brief  entries  in  his  diary  often  show  us  what  Avas  not  known 
during  his  life. 

On  January  1,  1874,  he  whites:  "Thank  my  God  for  all 
the  mercies  to  me  and  mine  of  the  past  year.  I  renew  my 
vows  of  consecration.  Make  me  holy,  useful,  and  patient, 
Save  me  from  sin,  death,  and  debt  this  year — myself  and 
family."  These  vows  of  consecration  were  being  constantly 
renewed.  It  w^as  his  invariable  habit  during  his  long  life  on 
the  1st  of  January,  the  9th  of  October,  and  the  12th  of  No- 
vember to  reconsecrate  himself  in  the  most  humble  and  sol- 
emn manner  to  the  service  of  God.  He  did  this  not  merel}^ 
as  a  matter  of  duty,  but  as  a  high  privilege.  Gratitude  for 
God's  special  care  of  him  and  his  is  ever  seen  mingling  with 
the  vow  of  renewed  devotion  to  his  holy  cause. 

On  January  14,  1874,  the  Board  of  Trust  of  Vanderbilt 
University  met  in  Memphis,  Tenn.  Bishop  Paine  was  pres- 
ent, greatly  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  Board.  At  this  meet- 
ing Dr.  L.  C.  Garland  was  chosen  Chancellor.  Drs.  Sum- 
mers, Shipp,  Wills,  and  Lupton   were  also  appointed  to 


272  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 

prominent  places  in  the  Faculty.  It  was  also  determined 
that  on  January  15,  1875,  the  university  should  open  its 
doors  for  the  reception  of  students.  The  Board  continued 
in  session  for  some  days,  and  had  no  wiser  or  more  efficient 
member  than  was  their  ever-faithful  friend  to  education. 
He  rejoiced  with  exceeding  great  joy  as  the  prospect  of  a 
university  of  the  highest  order  seemed  now  certain  of  reali- 
zation— that  too  during  his  own  day.  He  had  no  misgivings 
as  to  a  theological  department.  He  felt  that  the  time  had 
come  in  the  history  of  Methodism  when  candidates  for  the 
ministry  should  have  all  the  advantages  of  a  thorough  the- 
ological education. 

On  the  21st  of  February  his  heart  was  made  glad  by  the 
return  of  his  son  John  Emory,  who  had  graduated  with  the 
highest  honors  at  the  Medical  University  of  New  York.  He 
had  taken  the  first  prize,  and  this  added  to  the  gratification 
of  his  venerable  father.  His  son  George  was  in  the  senior 
class  at  the  University  of  Mississipj^i,  and  received  the  de- 
gree of  A.B.  at  its  annual  commencement  in  the  summer. 
Both  of  these  events  were  noted  with  great  satisfaction.  It 
was  indeed  cause  for  thanksgiving.  These  were  noble  sons, 
worthy  of  their  father.  Both  had  distinguished  themselves 
in  their  classes,  and  both  were  young  gentlemen  of  high 
moral  character. 

On  his  way  to  the  General  Conference  in  Louisville  he 
stopped  for  a  few  days  with  his  old  pupils  in  Florence,  Ala. 
He  was  renewing  his  youth  with  such  men  as  Judge  W.  B. 
Wood,  Gov.  E.  A.  O'Neal,  and  Judge  H.  E.  Jones.  They 
had  been  his  pupils  more  than  thirty-five  3'ears  before,  and 
were  men  of  the  highest  position,  and  were  ever  ready  for 
every  good  word  and  work  in  Church  and  in  the  State  of 
which  O'Neal  became  Governor  and  in  which  both  Jones 
and  Wood  were  prominent  and  distinguished  citizens,  hold- 
ing high  offices  of  both  honor  and  trust.     It  was  not  often 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  273 

that  the  Bishop  during  his  wliole  career  stoi)perI  by  the  way 
as  a  mere  matter  of  social  enjoyment  with  old  pupils. 

From  Florence  he  went  to  Nasliville  to  attend  the  cere- 
monies of  laying  the  corner-stone  of  the  great  university. 
He  was  a  prominent  and  gratified  actor  in  these  ceremonies, 
and  showed  much  more  feeling  than  he  was  accustomed  t(j  do. 

At  the  General  Conference,  held  in  Louisville,  May, 
1874,  he  was  placed  in  the  excellent  family  of  Hon.  T. 
L.  Jefferson.  His  stay  was  a  benediction  to  the  whole 
family.  He  has  been  remembered  ever  since  with  the 
most  cordial  affection.  His  presence  did  not  bring  gloom, 
but  sunshine.  His  company  was  attractive,  and  noth- 
ing either  in  his  manners  or  in  his  words  was  in  the  least 
repulsive.  He  was  still  the  Christian  gentleman,  as  well 
as  the  Christian  Bishop.  He  presided  oflen  during  the 
General  Conference,  and  always  with  satisfaction.  The  Con- 
ference was  a  deeply  interesting  one  to  our  common  Method- 
ism. It  received  fraternal  delegates  from  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church  for  the  first  time  since  the  organization 
of  the  Church  in  1845.  That  was  no  fault  of  the  Church, 
South.  A  fi*aternal  delegate  sent  by  the  Southern  Church 
had  been  rejected  in  1848.  It  was  a  wonderful  fact  that 
Dr.  Lovick  Pierce,  the  rejected  delegate  of  1848,  was  on 
the  platform  in  1874.  He  was  then  possibly  the  oldest 
Methodist  preacher  on  the  continent.  It  must  have  been 
a  gratification  beyond  measure  to  the  Christian  heart  of 
this  veteran  of  ninety  years  to  witness  these  fraternal  greet- 
ings. They  were  just  such  as  reflected  glory  and  honor 
upon  our  holy  religion  and  upon  the  eloquent  men  who 
represented  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  on  that  mem- 
orable occasion.  Bishop  Paine  as  the  senior  Bishop  might 
have  presided  on  that  occasion,  but  he  did  not.  His  mag- 
nanimity urged  him  to  put  forward  his  colleague,  P>ish()p 
McTyeire,  who  had  given  him  such  prominence  at  the  in- 
18 


274  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 

augurating  ceremonies  of  the  Vanderbilt.  Bishop  Paine 
was.  never  to  be  outdone  in  magnanimity.  He  modestly 
sat  back  on  the  platform,  and  Avituessed  such  exhibitions  of 
Christian  love  as  can  never  be  forgotten.  It  was  during 
these  greetings  that  Dr.  Hunt,  one  of  the  fraternal  messen- 
gers, read  an  autograph  letter  from  the  father  of  American 
Methodism,  Bishop  Asbury.  The  letter  had  all  the  marks 
of  age.  It  was  evidently  genuine,  and  had  been  kept  by 
some  loving  old  Methodist  as  a  souvenir  of  great  value. 
After  reading  it,  the  Doctor  turned  with  infinite  grace,  and 
with  the  tenderest  Christian  feelings  presented  the  letter  as 
a  gift  to  the  venerable  Dr.  Lovick  Pierce,  and  accompanied 
the  present  with  such  words  as  moved  the  whole  audience. 
•Bishop  McTyeire  replied  in  the  happiest  spirit  and  style  to 
the  words  of  love  which  had  been  uttered  by  Drs.  Hunt, 
Fowler,  and  General  Fisk,  and  the  fraternal  messengers. 
He  then  said :  "  Brethren,  if  it  please  you  it  will  gratify  us 
that  you  take  your  place  on  the  platform  and  feel  perfectly 
at  home  with  these  representatives  of  the  Church,  South." 
Thus  ended  one  of  the  most  interesting  and  important 
events  in  the  history  of  Methodism.  During  this  General 
Conference  there  were  several  Sunday-school  mass-meetings 
held  in  Library  Hall,  and  attended  by  immense  audiences. 
Bishop  Paine  notes  his  presiding  at  one  "at  which  there 
were  four  thousand  persons  present."  Dr.  A.  L.  P.  Green 
made  his  last  Sabbath-school  address  at  this  meeting.  He 
was  very  feeble  and  much  worn  down  with  the  malady 
which  closed  his  useful  life.  He  was  bright  and  cheerful, 
and  made  one  of  the  best  addresses  ever  delivered  on  such 
an  occasion.  The  speech  was  so  bright  and  cheerful,  so  ap- 
propriate to  children,  and  so  instructive  to  all,  that  no  one 
dreamed  of  the  great  suffering  of  the  speaker  or  of  his  near- 
ness to  the  grave.  In  a  day  or  two  he  went  home  to  die. 
In  his  death  Bishop  Paine  felt  that  he  had  met  with  a  great 


BISIIOr  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  275 

pei-sonal  loss.  They  had  been  friends  for  more  than  half 
a  century.  During  all  this  time  their  devotion  to  each 
other  had  been  the  purest  and  strongest,  and  had  increased 
with  their  years. 

During  this  same  Conference  the  Rev.  Fountain  E.  Pitts, 
another  of  the  Bishop's  Tennessee  Conference  friends,  true 
and  tried,  was  also  called  to  his  "  eternal  home."  The  Bishop 
participated  in  his  memorial-services,  and  delivered  on  the 
occasion  a  brief  but  eloquent  and  appropriate  address. 

Before  the  close  of  the  year  the  Tennessee  Conference  lost 
another  distinguished  member  who  was  also  one  of  the  Bish- 
op's early  friends.  A  purer  man  never  lived  than  w^as  the 
Rev.  Thomas  Maddin.  He  was  the  highly  cultivated  Chris- 
tian gentleman,  and  the  humble  Christian  with  a  character 
faithfully  modeled  after  Him  whom  he  preached  with  so 
much  eloquence  and  success  for  so  many  years.  Thus  were 
going  nearly  all  those  who  were  the  companions-in-arms  with 
Robert  Paine  when  he  wielded  the  sword  of  the  Sj^irit  with 
such  vigor  in  his  young  manhood.  Of  all  these,  Dr.  A.  L. 
P.  Green  was  the  most  intimate  friend  of  the  Bishop.  "  Wise, 
unselfish,  devoted,"  are  the  adjectives  which  he  applies  to 
him,  and  calls  him  his  most  intimate  friend  on  earth. 


276  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,  D.r>. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

SEVENTY-FIFTir  ANNIVERSARY — Do:MESTIC  AFFLICTIONS — HeROTC 

Devotion  to  Duty. 

AFTER  holding  many  District  Conferences,  preaching 
whenever  opportunity  offered,  ordaining  and  baptizing, 
during  the  summer  of  1874,  he  held  the  Memphis  Confer- 
ence at  Humboldt,  November  18 ;  the  Mississippi  Conference 
at  Hazlehurst,  December  16;  and  this  closed  up  the  ^vork  of 
another  laborious  year. 

It  so  happened  that  he  was  at  home  on  the  seventN'-fifth 
anniversary  of  his  birth.  He  had  been  generally  absent 
on  the  return  of  these  anniversaries.  As  he  was  at  home, 
his  wife  determined  to  give  him  a  Christmas  festival. 
This  was  done.  The  children  were  there.  The  house  was 
bright.  The  supper  was  elegant.  The  religious  services, 
conducted  by  Rev.  William  Murrah,  were  very  appro- 
priate. All  passed  off  just  as  such  a^n  occasion,  under  the 
management  of  a  noble  Christian  woman  and  a  true  wife 
such  as  was  Mrs.  Paine,  is  always  sure  to  pass.  The  old 
Bishop  enjoyed  the  day  which  began  his  seventy-sixth  year 
as  much  as  most  men  of  fifty  enjoy  their  birthdays.  He  re- 
membered the  past  without  regret;  he  enjoyed  the  present 
without  any  alloy  of  bitterness,  and  looked  to  an  eternal 
future  with  the  most  joyful  ho2)e. 

The  new  year,  1875,  found  the  Bishop  away  from  home 
on  Conference  duties.  He  was  on  his  way  to  Alexandria, 
La.  He  was  much  exposed  on  the  route,  and  on  the  Sab- 
bath of  the  Conference  he  was  compelled  to  cross  Red  River 
in  an  open  skiff  in  order  to  reach  the  church  in  which  he 
was  to  preach  and  ordain  deacons  and  elders.     He  became 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  K.  CnURCII,  SOUTH.  277 


very  eokl,  and  sutlbrcd  niiu-li  while  at  church.  In  a  shoit 
time  lie  felt  the  beginning  of  the  distressing  niahidy  which, 
after  years  of  snfiering,  finally  terminated  his  life.  He 
ought  to  have  rested  this  whole  year,  but  he  did  not.  He 
Avas  determined  to  die  on  the  field.  During  the  year  he 
])resided  at  District  Conferences  in  Tennessee  and  Missis- 
sippi, and  preached  whenever  opportunity  afforded  and  as 
he  was  able  to  do  so. 

He  had  sad  domestic  afflictions.  A  beautiful  grandchild 
bright  and  attractive,  died  at  his  house.  The  child  Avas  jus: 
at  that  interesting  age  when  its  innocent  prattle  and  winning 
ways  were  so  well  calculated  to  kindle  the  tenderest  feeling^5 
in  the  heart  of  the  grand  old  man.  But  a  still  heavier  sor- 
row fell  upon  him  in  the  death  of  his  son,  John  Emory  Paine, 
M.D.  He  had  but  recently  married  an  accomplished  wife, 
and  had  just  entered  upon  a  career  which  promised  both 
usefulness  and  distinction.  He  was  called  at  midnifrht  to 
see  a  patient  some  six  miles  distant.  Though  very  unwell,  he 
went,  and  returned  at  four  a.m.  very  ill.  He  never  rallied. 
The  Bishop  was  with  him,  and  prayed  with  and  for  him. 
The  young  man  was  at  first  much  concerned,  and  joined  his 
father  in  earnest  prayer  for  his  recovery  and  for  his  soul's 
salvation.  He  became  very  happy,  and  died  in  great  peace 
The  Bishop  makes  this  brief  entry  in  his  diary:  "Wed.  10] 
o'clock,  Sept.  15, 1875,  my  son  John  Emory  died,  'all  bright 
and  happy;'  called  by  name  all  present,  and  said  to  each, 
'Promise  to  meet  me  in  heaven.'  They  all  promised. 
Sick  less  than  three  days.  O  what  a  death — so  sudden, 
and  yet  so  bright !  Thank  God  for  his  grace,  to  renew-  and 
prepare  for  heaven.  Here,  Lord,  I  give  myself  to  thee — 
'tis  all  that  I  can  do.  O  Lord  save  my  family!"  The 
dear  young  man  was  buried  on  September  IG.  On  the  17th 
of  September  his  sorrowing  father  was  called  to  preach  the 
funeral-sermon  of  an  old  friend  and  foi-mer  pujnl,  Dr.  T. 


278  LIFK   OF    ROBERT   PAINE,   D.D. 

A.  Sykes.  He  did  not  hesitate  to  go.  He  felt  that  in 
comforting  others  he  woukl  be  comforted.  Of  course  it 
\vas  a  great  cross,  but  "  no  cross  no  crown."  None  but 
those  called  under  like  circumstances  to  preach  and  admin- 
ister consolation  to  others  can  fully  appreciate  the  position 
of  the  Bishop.  Just  turning  away  from  the  grave  of  a  be- 
loved son  who  had  died  in  the  fresh  vigor  of  young  man- 
hood, and  with  every  prospect  of  a  successful  and  happy 
career  before  him,  he  is  called  to  minister  to  the  sorrows 
of  others,  and  to  commemorate  the  virtues  of  a  deceased 
pupil.  His  text  was :  "  Be  ye  steadfast,  unmovable,  always 
abounding  in  the  work  of  the  Lord."  It  enabled  him  to 
bring  before  tlie  congregation  the  assurance  of  a  glorious 
resurrection.  This  was  comfort.  This  was  joy.  A  month 
aller  the  death  of  his  son,  we  find  him  in  Nashville  at  the 
opening  of  the  Vanderbilt  University.  He  listened  with 
great  pleasure  to  the  eloquent  sermon  of  Bishop  Doggett 
on  the  "Dynamics  of  the  religion  of  Christ,"  and  also  to 
the  learned  and  polished  address  of  Bishop  William  M. 
Wightman.  It  was  his  part  to  address  the  students.  He 
always  loved  young  men.  He  looked  now  upon  these,  as- 
sembled from  almost  every  Southern  State,  with  unusual 
hope.  They  were  to  be  under  the  instruction  of  the  most 
accomplished  teachers,  and  were  to  have  opportunities  of 
culture  such  as  had  not  been  enjoyed  before  at  any  Meth- 
odist college.  The  scene  inspired  him,  and  "  the  old  man 
eloquent"  uttered  such  words  as  the  good  and  great  only 
can  utter.  In  the  opening  of  this  great  university  he 
realized  a  "hope  which  had  long  been  deferred,"  and  re- 
joiced in  its  realization.  He  placed  his  youngest  son  in  the 
institution,  whose  success  he  believed  already  assured.  It 
must  have  been  a  gratification  to  all  the  friends  of  the  uni- 
versity that  in  Bishop  Paine  it  iiad  one  of  its  warmest  and 
most  enthusastic  supporters. 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH^  SOUTH.  279 


At  the  close  of  tlic  seventy-sixth  year  of  his  age,  he 
held  three  Annual  Conferences,  preaching  and  ordaining 
deacons  and  elders.  Thus  closed  a  year  of  deej)  flimily  and 
personal  affliction.  Yet  he  saw  much  to  encourage  him. 
The  dark  night  of  political  misrule  was  passing  away 
ironi  his  beloved  peojde.  The  country  was  progressing. 
The  Church  was  moving  forward.  The  educational  outlook 
was  more  hopeful.  He  thanked  God  and  took  courage, 
and  expressed  the  hope  that  the  old  flag  might  once  more 
float  over  a  united  and  happy  people. 

In  January,  1876,  another  great  afiliction  fell  unexpect- 
edly upon  the  church  of  Aberdeen,  and  was  most  deeply 
felt  by  Bishop  Paine.  Judge  John  Burrus  Sale  died.  He 
had  been  educated  at  La  Grange  College  under  the  Presi- 
dency of  Robert  Paine.  A  wild  boy,  he  had  been  gently 
led  to  Christ  largely  through  the  influence  of  his  teachings. 
He  was  a  man  of  high  character  and  large  influence.  His 
talents  were  such  ps  to  give  him  the  first  position  at  the 
bar,  and  his  piety  i)laeed  him  among  the  foremost  in  the 
Church.  His  fiither,  the  Rev.  Alexander  Sale,  who  has 
been  before  mentioned  in  these  pages,  was  a  preacher  of 
high  standing  in  the  Virginia  Conference,  and  was  one  of 
the  pioneer  itinerant  preachers  in  the  early  history  of  Ala- 
bama. He  was  a  member  of  the  Board  of  Trustees  of  La 
Grange  College,  and  he  and  Bishop  Paine  were  life-long 
and  devoted  friends.  The  son  was  nuich  like  his  father. 
He  was  tall  and  commanding  in  pea-son,  and  seemed  destined 
to  a  long  life.  But  God  saw  otherwise,  and  "took  him." 
The  Bishop  was  with  him  in  his  last  sickness,  and  prayed 
with  him,  and  conversed  freely  with  him  as  to  his  future. 
All  was  well.  He  died  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost  and  of  faith. 
The  Bishop  says:  "He  was  my  l)est  friend  in  Aberdeen." 
He  was  his  pu})il  more  than  a  tiiird  ol'  a  century  before, 
and  for  many  years  had  been  his  neighbor  and  friend  and 


280  LIFE   OF  ROBERT  PAINE,  D.D. 

counselor.  The  Bishop  preached  the  funeral-sermon  of 
his  old  friend,  and  committed  dust  to  dust  until  the  resur- 
rection. The  sermon  was  on  "Christ,  the  first -fruits  of 
them  that  slept."  He  loved  more  and  more  to  dwell  upon 
Christ  as  the  resurrection  and  the  life.  The  theme  inspired 
and  comforted  him,  and  enabled  him  to  speak  words  of  con- 
solation to  others. 

During  the  winter  and  spring  of  1876  he  remained  most 
of  the  time  at  his  home.  He  was  not  well.  He  was  often 
not  able  to  be  at  the  church  on  Sabbath,  and  preached  only 
a  few  times.  In  May,  ho^yever,  he  determined  to  attend 
the  Bishops'  meeting  at  Nashville.  His  ever-faithful  wife 
accompanied  him.  He  was  still  unable  to  preach,  and  list- 
ened with  pleasure  to  Bishop  Doggett,  as  he  preached  on 
the  "Progress  of  Methodism  durins;  the  nineteenth  centu- 
ry."  Of  all  this  progress  he  had  been  a  witness,  and  for 
more  than  fifty  years  had  contributed  largely  to  it.  The 
eloquent  utterances  of  his  colleague  filled  him  with  grati- 
tude as  he  portrayed  the  past,  and  with  hope  as  he  looked 
to  the  future  of  his  beloved  Methodism. 

After  the  Bishops'  meeting,  he  attended  the  Gallatin  Dis- 
trict Conference,  and  preached  on  Sabbath  in  the  open  air 
to  a  vast  concourse.  His  sermon  was  just  one  hour  long 
on  the  text,  "Surely  this  man  was  the  Son  of  God."  He 
then  attended  a  District  Conference  near  Decatur,  Alabama, 
at  Trinity,  and  preached  again  in  the  open  air  on  the 
"  Temptation  of  Christ."  He  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting 
his  only  living  sister,  Mrs.  Abernathy,  and  of  having  her 
accompany  him  to  his  home  in  Aberdeen.  These  two  were 
now  left  alone  of  all  the  brothers  and  sisters  of  that  once 
large  family.  He  continued  to  attend  District  Conferences 
and  preached  during  the  summer  as  he  had  ability.  It  is 
really  astonishing  to  see  what  work  he  did.  After  an  ex- 
hausting sermon,  he  writes:  "I  preached  too  long  and  hard. 


BISIIOr  OF  THE   1\I.  K.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  281 

Would  that  I  knew  how  to  preach  easy!  Dr.  Green  did. 
80  do  Dr.  Parker  and  Bishop  McTyeire  and  Dr.  Young." 
In  August  of  this  year  the  commissioners  on  the  part  of 
the  two  Episcopal  JNIethodisms  in  the  United  States  met 
and  agreed  upon  terms  of  fraternity.  This  settlement  of 
great  principles  evoked  the  i)rayer  from  the  Bishop,  "May 
all  be  wise,  good,  perpetual.  If  love  and  peace  result,  what 
a  blessing ! "  Soon  after  these  terms  were  settled  he  attended 
the  Illinois  Conference  cf  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church, 
South.  Here  he  had  the  i)leasure  of  meeting  with  his  old 
friend  the  Rev.  Peter  Akers.  They  exchanged  frateriuil 
greetings,  and  met  and  parted  as  brethren  beloved.  The 
Conference  was  held  at  Jacksonville ;  and  when  the  resolu- 
tions on  fraternity  were  presented,  Dr.  Akers  made  a  char- 
acteristic speech,  and  all  felt  that  the  long  ecclesiastical  war 
was  over.  On  his  way  home  Bishop  Paine  received  intelli- 
gence of  the  heroic  death  of  Dr.  E.  H.  Myers,  one  of  the 
peace  commissioners.  He  was  stationed  at  Savannah, 
Georgia,  and  upon  hearing  that  the  yellow  fever  was  rag- 
ing there  he  at  once  hurried  to  his  suffering  people.  Alas! 
he  Avent  as  a  martyr.  With  love  in  his  heart  and  heaven  in 
his  eye,  he  rushed  to  his  own  death.  On  his  return  to  his 
home.  Bishop  Paine  found  his  daughter-in-law,  the  wife  of 
his  son  Robert,  lying  at  the  point  to  die.  He  had  with 
her  an  affectionate  Christian  talk  and  a  humble,  earnest 
])rayer.  She  was  a  beautiful  Christian  character,  and  died 
in  joyftil  hope  of  eternal  rest.  This  death  was  followed 
very  soon  by  the  death  of  another  friend  and  neighbor,  the 
Rev.  B.  B.  Barker,  who  also  died  in  great  peace.  He  bore 
these  bereavements  just  as  a  trusting  Christian  always  does. 
"  Thy  will  be  done,"  These  were  his  words,  and  they  ex- 
pressed fortitude,  faith,  resignation,  and  hope.  All  was 
well.  He  was  at  his  post  as  presiding  Bishop  at  the  Ala- 
bama Conference,  where  lie  was  alwavs  welcome.     It  was 


282  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 

held  this  year  at  Demopolis.  Here  he  met  his  former  con- 
frere in  ike  cause  of  education,  Dr.  Henry  Tutwiler.  The 
meeting  of  these  old  and  true  Christian  gentlemen  was  such 
as  to  remind  one  of  the  meeting  of  loved  ones  in  the  home 
of  the  blessed.  He  was  able  to  preach  and  go  through  the 
services  of  ordination  without  any  serious  inconvenience. 
The  Conference  closed  on  December  12,  and  he  left  imme- 
diately for  Nashville,  Tennessee.  The  Publishing  House 
was  in  trouble.  The  Bishops  Avere  to  hold  a  consultation 
with  the  Book  Committee,  and  to  advise  as  to  what  w^as 
best  to  be  done  to  relieve  this  great  Church  enterprise  of 
its  trouble.  His  love  of  the  Church,  his  great  caution,  his 
keen  foresight,  and  his  large  financial  ability  were  all 
brought  into  requisition  at  this  meeting.  It  was  deter- 
mined to  have  all  the  affairs  of  the  House  thoroughly  exam- 
ined by  experts,  and  a  full  and  correct  statement  of  its  con- 
dition presented  to  the  Church.  The  result  of  all  this  has 
been  the  restoration  of  confidence  in  the  House  and  the  as- 
surance of  its  final  relief  from  its  difficulties  and  of  a  certain 
career  of  prosperity  and  usefulness.  Thus  closed  the  seven- 
ty-seventh year  of  a  life  of  continuous  labor,  and  the  sixtieth 
of  active  Avork  as  an  itinerant  Methodist  preacher.  He 
had  noAV  been  thirty  years  a  Bishop,  fulfilling  his  most  sol- 
emn vows  and  doing  the  work  of  a  chief  pastor  with  great 
ability  and  enlarged  usefulness. 

The  winter  of  1876  and  1877  was  intensely  severe.  The 
Bishop  says  in  his  diary  that  the  snow  fell  in  Aberdeen  to 
the  depth  of  two  feet.  It  was  the  deepest  that  had  been 
seen  for  sixty  years.  The  cold  weather  kept  him  in-doors 
most  of  the  winter.  So  soon  as  the  spring  opened  he  began 
work  w  ith  his  usual  energy.  He  attended  District  Confer- 
ences in  Louisiana,  Tennessee,  Kentucky,  Mississippi,  Ala- 
bama, and  Florida.  He  also  attended  by  invitation  from 
Dr.  D.  C.  Kelley  the  last  communion  held  in  the  old  McKen- 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHUKCII,  SOUTH.  283 

dree  Church,  at  Nashville.     He  had  witnessed  the  growth 
of  Methodism  for  sixty  years  in  that  city.     He  had  been 
the  pastor  there  in  the  early  part  of  his  ministry.     He  had 
married  liis  first  wife  in  Nashville,  and  had  laid  her  sacred 
dust  there  among  her  kindred,  to  sleep  in  quiet  until  the 
resurrection.     Many  of  his  happiest  days  had  been  spent 
in  Nashville,  and  he  accepted  the  invitation  to  go  hundreds 
of  miles  to  enjoy  the  lust  communion  in  the  house  which 
had  the  name  of  McKendree,  so  dear  to   him.     The   old 
structure  was  to  be  torn  down  and  a  new  one  to  be  erected 
in  its  stead.     Nearly  all  the  old  pastors  who  were  living 
were  at  that  last  gathering.     It  was  an  occasion  long  to  be 
remembered.     A  new  temple  was  to  be  erected  whose  glory 
should  far  exceed  the  beauty  of  the  one  in  which  this  eu- 
charistic  feast  was  to  be  celebrated  for  the  last  time.     Bish- 
op McTyeire  w^as  there  to  lead  in  the  exercises,  which  were 
deeply  impressive,  and  which  touched  the  deepest  sympathies 
of  his  venerable  colleague.     He  enjoyed  them.     He  felt  re- 
paid for  all  the  fatigue  of  the  trip.     While  sacred  memories 
were  called  up,  the  occasion  was  also  a  prophecy.     It  fore- 
shadowed still  greater  prosperity  and  success  to  his  beloved 
Methodism  in  this  growing  city.     Here  was  the  Book  Con- 
cern, which,  though  greatly  embarrassed,  he  hoped  to  see 
relieved  of  all  its  disabilities  and  going  forward  in  a  career 
of  sreat  usefulness  to  the  countrv.     Here,  too,  was  the  Van- 
derbilt.     The   outlook   was  magnificent.     He  was   almost 
ready  to  say :  "  Now,  Lord,  lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart 
in  peace."     He  was  again  at  the  Bishops'  meeting  in  Nash- 
ville,.at  which  initial  steps  were  taken  to  raise  a  sum  for 
the  suffering  Pu])lishing  House. 

During  the  summer  he  was  absent  a  great  deal.  He  was 
preaching  with  nuich  more  satisfaction  to  others  than  to 
himself  After  preaching  at  a  District  Conference  to  a 
large  crowd  assembled  in  a  grove,  lie  writes:  "Preached  on 


284  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAIXE,   D.D. ' 

Heb.  vii.  25.  Christ  able  to  save.  Poor  affair.  My  ideal 
of  2^ reaching  above  my  practice.  AVish  I  could  preach. 
O  that  I  could  be  useful,  and  see  present  fruits."  To  see 
fruits — present  fruits — was  the  great  desire  of  his  heart. 
Because  these  fruits  Avere  not  always  visible,  he  was  grieved. 
He  loved  souls.  He  sought  to  save  those  whom  he  knew  were 
the  redeemed  by  Christ.  He  knew  there  was  power  in  the 
gospel.  He  felt  that  it  ought  to  produce  immediate  and 
powerful  results. 

In  August  he  left  home  to  attend  the  Kentucky  Conference. 
He  stopped  at  Louisville,  and  was  the  guest  of  his  very  true 
friend  Hon.  T.  L.  Jefferson.  I  happened  to  meet  him.  I 
had  not  seen  him  since  the  General  Conference  at  Louis- 
ville, 1874.  I  could  see  that  his  powerful  physical  man- 
hood was  giving  way.  His  hearing  was  much  impaired, 
and  he  seemed  to  be  suffering.  We  spent  some  two  hours 
together.  He  gave  me  much  good  advice.  He  was  bright 
and  cheerful,  and  I  never  saw  him  more  pleasant;  yet, 
with  the  weight  of  nearly  seventy-eight  years  upon  him,  he 
was  beginning  to  show  evidences  of  yielding.  After  hold- 
ing the  Kentucky  Conference  at  Winchester,  he  returned 
to  Louisville  and  rested  for  some  days  at  the  delightful 
home  of  Brother  Thos.  L.  Jefferson.  He  also  preached  on 
Sabbath  at  Chestnut  Street  Church.  Here  he  was  wel- 
comed by  Dr.  Messick,  the  pastor,  and  his  flock,  who  all 
enjoyed  the  ministrations  of  the  venerable  servant  of  God 
and  the  Church.  He  was  a  most  welcome  guest  in  the 
family  of  Mr.  Jefferson.  He  had  none  of  the  moroseness 
which  renders  old  age  often  repulsive.  He  was  frcqujntly 
])layful,  and  always  agreeable.  He  exercised  that  beautiful 
grace  Avliich  never  behaves  itself  unseemly. 

After  resting  a  short  while  at  home,  he  attended  tlie 
German  Mission  Conference  at  Houston,  Texas.  While 
there  he  heard  of  the  death  of  Bishop  Marvin,  three  days 


r.Tsirop  OF  THE  M.  E.  criurnr,  south.  285 


after  Its  (.cvurrenec.     He  says:  ''I  mourn  for  a  colWue 
gifted,  holy,  and  useful."     Again  he  enters  in  his  diary: 
i^ishop  .Marvui  died  in  8t.  Louis  at  fbur  a.m.  on  November 
2h.     Did  not  liear  of  it  till  to-day,  Novendier  29.     A  most 
devoted,  useful,  and  gifted  minister  of  Christ.     A  great  loss 
to  the  Church.     So  very  sorry  to  lose  him!     Lately  round 
the  world.     Too  much  work  and  worry  for  so  frail  a  body  " 
Ihe  death  of  Bishop  iMarvin  was  unexpected,  and  fell  heav- 
ily upon  the  whole  Church.     He  was  an  evangelist.     He 
was  thoroughly  consecrated.     He  never  seemed  to  think  of 
self.     He  hterally  died  sword  in   hand,  "still   warm  with 
recent  fight."     His  death  made  the  sixth  that  had  taken 
place  in  iU  Episcopal  Board  since  Bishop  Paine  had  been 
ordained  in  1846.     Soule,  Capers,  Andrew,  Bascom,  Earlv, 
and  Marvin,  had  all  been  called  awav  by  the  silent  mes- 
senger.    Six  of  his  colleagues  gone !     The  death  of  none  of 
them  seemed  to  affect  him  so  much  as  the  death  of  Enoch 
Mather   Marvin.     It   was   so   unexpected.     He   had   not 
if  bought  once  of  seeing  this  young  Bishop  depart  and  leave 
him.     Another  death  near  the  same  time  greatly  grieved 
him.     This  was  the  death  of  Brother  Moss,  presiding  elder 
in  the  Memphis  Conference.     Moss  was  a  rising  man      His 
preaching  ability  was  of  a  very  high  order.     His  vivid  im- 
agination, his  numerous  and  apt   illustrations  always  ex- 
pressed in  choice  language,  his  vehemence   as  manifested 
both  in  th^  impassioned  thoughts  and  in  the  streno-th  of 
voice,  all  made  him  one  of  the  most  powerful  preaclfers  in 
the  Memphis  Conference.     His  death  was  a  great  loss  to  the 
Church,  and  especially  to  the  Memphis  Conference.     The 
Bishop  closed  the  labors  of  this  year  by  holding  the  Louis- 
iana Conference  at  Opelousas,  Louisiana.      He  was  now 
seventy-eight   years   of  age.     During   this   year  he   held 
twelve  District  Conferences  in  six  different  States.    He  had 
gone  twice  to  Nashville-fii-st  to  attend  the  last  communion 


286  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,  D.D. 

in  the  old  McKendree  Church,  and  then  to  be  at  the  Bit>li- 
ops'  meeting.  He  had  preached  often  in  country  churches, 
and  had  baptized  both  children  and  adults.     Was  he  not 

in  labors  abundant?     He  had  not  yet  crossed  the  " dead- 

■ 

line.''  He  was  welcomed  to  every  home,  desired  in  all  the 
pulpits,  and  no  one  was  more  popular  than  he  in  the  cabi- 
net or  in  the  chair. 

The  year  1878  was  passed  by  the  Bishop  in  great  suffer- 
ing. He  became  greatly  emaciated.  His  nights  afforded 
him  but  little  sound  natural  sleep.  During  the  days  he 
endured  almost  intolerable  pain.  He  tried  Lithia-water, 
but  it  gave  him  no  relief.  He  consulted  the  best  physicians, 
and  they  were  unable  to  render  him  any  assistance.  He 
was  dying  by  inches.  We  no  longer  accompany  him  in 
active  labor,  for  afflicted  as  he  was  with  an  incurable  mala- 
dy of  a  most  painful  character  and  with  the  weight  of  near- 
ly four-score  years  upon  him,  he  was  no  longer  able  to  do 
the  active  work  which  had  been  his  delight  for  more  than 
sixty  years.  He  Avas,  however,  determined  to  do  what  he 
could.  His  first  work  was  to  attend  the  session  of  the  Gen- 
eral Conference  at  Atlanta,  Georgia.  He  was  most  com-, 
fortably  entertained  in  the  family  of  Governor  Colquitt. 
Here  he  had  every  attention  that  Christian  culture  and 
love  could  give.  He  presided  a  few  times,  but  was  frequent- 
ly too  unwell  to  attend,  and  was  able  to  attempt  to  preach 
but  once  during  the  Conference.  He,  however,  took  the 
liveliest  interest  in  all  the  questions  that  came  uj)  for  dis- 
cussion or  for  legal  decision.  He  had  implicit  confidence 
in  his  colleagues,  and  felt  all  secure  with  them  conducting 
the  great  interests  of  the  Church.  After  the  Conference  he 
spent  a  short  time  in  Georgia  at  the  home  of  his  son  James, 
but  was  unable  to  preach  or  even  to  attend  church.  He 
arrived  at  home  early  in  June  and  remained  until  the  last 
of  the  month.     Sick  and  suflTering  as  he  was,  he  attended  a 


UTSiiop  OF  Tin:  m.  e.  rnunrn,  south.  287 

District  Conference  at  Scnatohia,  INIississippi.  He  preached 
on  Sabbatli  from  the  text,  "  Knowing  that  he  which  raised 
up  the  Lord  Jesus  shall  raise  up  us  also  by  Jesus,  and  shall 
present  us  \vith  you "  (2  Corinthians  iv.  14).  Though 
greatly  exhausted,  he  did  not  suffer  so  much  from  the  eff()rt 
to  preach  as  he  feared.  He  also  attended  a  District  Con- 
ference on  the  5th  of  July  at  luka,  Mississippi.  He  was 
unable  to  preach,  and  was  suffering  constant  and  severe 
pain.  He  got  ready  to  attend  other  District  Conferences, 
but  found  himself  unable  to  do  so.  Besides,  the  yellow  fe- 
ver was  prevailing  at  Water  Valley,  Holly  S})rings,  and  at 
other  towns  in  Mississippi.  A  panic  prevailed  even  at 
Aberdeen,  and  many  families  left.  He  therefore  remained 
at  home,  "suffering  greatly  day  and  night."  He  con- 
sented to  hold  the  Memphis  Conference  at  Jackson,  Ten- 
nessee, on  December  4;  the  Xorth  Mississi})pi  at  Macon, 
December  11;  and  the  Mississippi,  on  December  18.  He 
attended  and  held  the  first  two,  but  w^as  unable  to  do  more. 
Exhausted  with  pain  and  too  feeble  to  go  on  with  his  w  ork, 
he  telegraphed  to  one  of  his  colleagues  that  he  could  do  no 
more.  He  returned  home  feeling  and  writing  that  his  work 
was  nearly  done.  During  the  rest  of  the  winter  1878-79  he 
was  able  to  do  nothing,  and  was  so  feeble  and  in  a  state  of 
so  great  suffering  that  he  was  not  even  able  to  attend  church 
until  the  20th  of  April.  Feeble  as  he  was,  he  attended 
the  Bishops'  meeting  at  Nashville  in  May.  From  Nashville 
he  went  to  Hurricane  Springs.  Here  he  tried  to  preach 
sitting  in  his  chair,  from  John  xiv.  1-3.  He  talked  famil- 
iarly, hopefully,  and  yet  seriously,  on  our  Father's  house 
with  many  mansions,  and  had  the  solemn  attention  of  the 
little  company  assembled  to  hear  him.  He  did  not  exert 
himself,  and  yet  he  suffei-ed  intensely,  and  had  to  remain 
closely  in  his  room  all  the  next  day.  The  water  of  the 
springs  did  not  suit  his  case.     The  secretion  of  the  blood 


288  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,  D.D. 

became  greater,  aud  his  sufferings  increased.  He  therefore 
left  the  springs  and  returned  home.  While 'at  home  he 
penned  the  following  letter : 

Dear  Brother  McFerrin:  Let  me  congratulate  yon,  your  able  and 
noble  Book  Committee,  as  well  as  all  other  members  and  friends 
who  have  contributed  to  sustain  the  honor  of  our  Southern  Method- 
ism. It  thrilled  my  heart  to  learn  that  the  big  debt  of  S300,000  had 
been  provided  for.  Hear  it!  The  Methodists,  South,  do  not  repu- 
diate an  honest  debt.  Tliey,  like  all  other  honest  men,  frankly  con- 
fess it,  and  pay  it  as  soon  as  they  can.  Poor  we  may  be — and  how 
poor  we  are  down  here  those  North  cannot  conceive — yet  our  Metli- 
odism  is  a  debt-paying  religion.  In  this  respect  at  least  we  are  true 
Wesleyans,  and  no  man  shall  take  this  honor  from  us.  And  now  let 
us  pay  promptly  our  subscriptions,  and  go  forward  to  meet  our  obliga- 
tions to  God  and  man  by  sending  the  gospel  to  the  whole  world. 

My  health  has  not  improved  much.  I  am  feeble,  and  sometimes 
suffer  intensely.  Then  1  can  do  nothing  but  endure.  At  other  times 
I  am  comparatively  easy.  How  I  may  do  my  work  at  my  Annual 
Conferences  I  cannot  tell;  but  it  is  my  purpose  to  attend  them  (Z). 
v.),  and  do  the  best  I  can.  They  lie  among  my  old  friends,  and  I 
want  to  see  the  members  again.  They  will  sustain  me  and  bear  with 
me  as  they  have  heretofore  done.  I  know  this.  Bishop  Pierce  has,  in 
two  notes,  tendered  me  his  assistance  at  Murfreesboro;  and  while  un- 
willing to  impose  any  additional  labor  upon  one  who  I  fear  has  already 
taken  too  much  upon  himself,  yet,  as  he  assures  me  that  neither  liis 
convenience  nor  his  present  state  of  health  forbids,  I  have  invited  him 
to  come.  My  strength  may  fail ;  and,  anyhow,  I  am  sure  we  will  be 
greatly  delighted  to  have  him  with  us.  Above  all,  may  God  be  with 
us  always!     Your  old  friend  and  brother,  R.  Paine. 

Aberdeen,  Mis?.,  Sept.  30.  1879. 

He  continued  at  home  until  October,  unable  to  do  any 
work.  On  October  1, 1879,  he  left  home,  suffering  and  fee- 
ble as  he  was,  and  attended  the  Tennessee  Conference  at 
Murfreesboro.  Here  he  had  the  valuable  assistance  of 
Bishop  Doggett.  Bishop  Doggett  preached  a  great  sermoai 
on  "The  judgment  of  the  last  day,"  and  Bishop  Paine  per- 
formed the  ordination  services.     After  the  close  of  the  Con- 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  289 


ference  he  went  to  the  Red  Sulphur  Springs,  in  Macon  coun- 
ty, Tennessee.     He  had  to  go  over  u  rough  road,  by  jn-ivate 
conveyance,  and  suflind  much  on  the  trip.     He  staid  at 
tlie  sj^rings  some  three  weeks,  but  derived  no  benefit  from 
the  waters.     Still  brave,  and  determined  to  work  as  long  as 
he  had  any  strength  at  all,  he  left  for  the  North  Alabama 
Conference,  which  he  held  at  Tuscaloosa.     It  will  be  re- 
membered that  he  had  traveled  on  the  Tuscaloosa  Circuit 
in  his  youth,  when  Tuscaloosa  was  a  small  village,  and  that 
his  circuit  extended  from  where  Demopolis  now  stands  to 
the  State  line  on  the  north.     He  had   lived    among   the 
mountains  of  North  Alabama  in  the  prime  of  his  manhood, 
and  had  frequently  visited  the  City  of  Oaks  in  the  interest 
of  La  Grange  College.     He  was  now  there  for  the  last  time. 
The  wilderness  had  indeed  been  made  to  rejoice.     He  now 
presided  over  a  flourishing  Conference,  and  the  territory 
over  which  the  boy-preacher  traveled  was  now  occupied  by 
thirty  or  forty  preachers.     The  wonderful  development  of 
North  Alabama  was  not  unexpected  to  him.     Its  vast  min- 
eral wealth  had   been  foretold   by  him   forty  years  before. 
The  spirit  of  the  Conference  cheered  him  in  the  midst  of 
pain  and  feebleness.     There  was  life  in  that  Conference. 
It  was  abreast  of  the  age.     He  saw  a  grand  future  opening 
before  it.     He  ordained  sixteen  deacons  and  eight  elders, 
and  at  the  close  of  the  Conference  felt  better  than   at  the 
beginning.     He  went  directly  from  the  North  Alabama  Con- 
ference to  Greensboro,  Alabama.     He  preached  to  the  stu- 
dents of  the  university,  though  unable  to  stand.     Indeed,  he 
was  not  able  to  preach  sitting  on  his  chair ;  but  he  was  so 
anxious  to  lead  young  men  to  Christ  that  in  spite  of  pain 
and  feebleness    he  gave  them   such    godly   counsel   as   his 
whole  life  so  well  fitted  him  to  give.     Accompanied  by  his 
devoted  wife,  he  went  from  Greensboro  to  Tuskegee,  Ala- 
bama, the  seat  of  the   Alabama  Conference.     I   had   not 
19 


290  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 

seen  liini  for  several  years.  I  was  sliocked  when  I  l((ked 
upon  that  once  compact,  manly,  erect  form  so  wasted  by  dis- 
ease and  the  infirmities  of  age.  His  eyes  still  beamed  with 
the  light  of  other  days.  He  gave  me  a  tender,  cordial 
grasp,  and  uttered  so  many  bright,  playful  words  that  he 
soon  removed  the  sadness  which  his  quick  eye  readily  saw 
overspreading  my  countenance.  I  ofi'ered  to  assist  him  in 
going  from  one  car  to  another,  but  he  pleasantly  said :  "  Let 
me  help  you,  Rivers."  He  said  this  referring  to  my  lame- 
ness, which  often  seemed  to  demand  help.  There  were 
quite  a  number  of  preachers  on  the  way  to  Conference,  and 
none  seemed  to  be  in  better  spirits  than  the  venerable  Bishop. 
His  pale  countenance  gave  evidence  of  constant  suffering, 
but  his  words  did  not  indicate  at  all  what  he  was  constantly 
enduring.  He  said  playfully  that  one  of  the  Bishops  had 
kindly  oflTered  to  assist  him,  but  that  he  hoped  to  be  able 
to  hold  the  Conference  without  having  to  call  upon  one  of 
his  colleagues.  Conversing  thus  cheerfully,  we  arrived  at 
Tuskegee,  Alabama,  December  16,  1879.  He  was  often 
unable  to  be  at  the  Conference  before  ten  o'clock,  and  while 
in  the  chair  seemed  to  be  suffering  most  excruciating  agony. 
It  was  a  very  protracted  session,  and  did  not  close  until 
late  on  Thursday  night. 

Before  the  appointments  were  read  out,  he  delivered  his 
last  talk  to  the  Alabama  Conference.  It  was  as  loving  and 
tender  as  ever  were  the  words  of  John  the  beloved  disciple. 
It  taught  us  patience,  forbearance,  and  "sweet  charity."  It 
was  the  unfolding  of  the  heart  of  the  venerable  father  to  the 
gaze  of  his  sons.  He  spoke  of  his  early  ministry.  He  re- 
ferred to  changes  which  had  taken  place  in  his  notions  of 
the  administration  of  discipline.  He  was  eloquent  in  the 
softest  and  tenderest  words  that  I  had  ever  heard  even  from 
his  lips.  He  seemed  to  me  to  be  the  very  embodiment  of 
love.     The  pale,  wan  face,  the  sunken  eyes,  and  the  trem- 


BISHOP  OF  TIIK   M.   K.  CHURCH,  SOlTir.  291 

bliiig  voice,  together  with  the  niidni<^ht  hour — cold,  freezing 
Aveather — all  together  niade  the  closing  scenes  of  the  Ala- 
banui  Conference  of  1879  the  most  tenderly  inii)ressive  that 
I  had  ever  witnessed.  That  night  he  pressed  my  iiand  for 
the  last  time.  He  said  tenderly  to  me.  "I  shall  soon  be 
gone.  'Tis  all  right."  These  were  the  last  words  he  ever 
spoke  to  his  old  pupil. 

The  night  was  cold,  but  cold  as  it  was  lie  left  for  his 
home,  which  he  reached  after  great  suffering  and  some  delay. 
The  delay  was  at  Selma,  where  he  had  the  most  gentle  and 
loving  attention  of  his  friend  Mrs.  Maria  Byrd,  widow  of  his 
old  and  dearly  loved  pupil  Judge  W.  M.  Byrd,  assisted  by  the 
gentle  hands  of  her  affectionate  Christian  daughters,  Misses 
Sallie  and  Luna.  He  arrived  at  home  in  a  suffering  con- 
dition, and  wrote  in  his  diary :  "  I  doubt  if  I  can  ever  hold 
another  Conference.  Still  losing  blood.  Have  done  so  little 
good  am  ashamed,  but  I  have  tried  to  be  honest  and  faith- 
ful and  rely  on  God's  mercy  in  Christ."  Again  he  writes : 
"  Feeble,  trusting.  The  gospel  only  assures  us  of  immortal 
happiness.  'We  know.'  It  is  enough  for  faith.  I  do  be- 
lieve." He  did,  however,  attend  the  Bishops'  meeting  in 
Kashville,  and  received  all  the  care  and  attention  he  so 
greatly  needed  at  the  hospitable  home  of  Captain  Fite,  who 
married  the  daughter  of  his  old  friend  Dr.  A.  L.  P.  Green. 
As  he  was  suffering  so  much,  he  remained  away  ffom  home 
but  a  short  time. 

On  the  9tli  of  October  he  remembered  his  spiritual  birth- 
day. With  an  energy  and  determination  which  astonished 
his  most  intimate  friends,  he  attended  the  Tennessee  Con- 
ference at  Pulaski,  Tennessee.  Bishoj)  McTyeire  was  with 
him,  and  gave  him  valuable  assistance.  He  enjoyed  the 
Conference  at  his  old  home,  though  all  were  gone  whom  he 
knew  in  his  boyhood,  and  when  he  was  a  merchant's  clerk 


292  LIFE  OF  PvOBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 


CHAPTER    XLI. 

Still  Suffering  and  Working — Dr.  Palmer's  Visit. 

ON  October  30,  at  home,  he  learned  that  Bishop  Doggett 
had  preceded  him — that  he  was  dead!  He  felt  this  to 
be  a  great  calamity,  and  was  much  distressed.  A  great 
man  had  fallen,  and  his  venerable  colleague  was  too  feeble 
to  say  a  word  on  the  sad  occasion.  Upon  the  anniversary 
of  his  birth,  he  writes:  "Eighty-one  years  old  to-day. 
Thank  God!  More  purity,  patience,  and  love."  Again  we 
find  him  disappointing  himself  and  astonishing  his  breth- 
ren by  attending  the  North  Mississippi  Conference  at  Co- 
lumbus, Mississippi.  And  this  ended  his  labors  and  his 
sufferings  for  the  year  1880.  It  was  about  this  time,  I 
believe,  that  he  was  visited  by  that  distinguished  Presbyte- 
rian minister  Dr..B.  M.  Palmer,  of  New  Orleans.  We  take 
from  the  South-western  Presbyterian  the  -following  interesting 
account  of  that  visit  as  given  by  Dr.  Palmer  himself: 

Mr.  Editor :  Few  Christians  of  any  denomination  visit  Aberdeen, 
Mississijtpi,  without  paying  their  respects  to  the  venerable  Bishop 
Paine,  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  South.  The  interview 
with  which  I  indulged  a  few  days  ago  was  so  touching  that  I  have 
a  flesire  to  put  it  on  record  for  the  benefit  of  others  besides  myself. 

The  conversation  opened  naturally  with  a  reference  to  his  state 
of  health,  and  to  the  severe  chronic  disease  which  more  than  his 
gi  eat  age  disables  him  from  active  service.  "  I  cannot  describe  to  you 
my  feelings,"  said  this  Christian  patriarch,  "  when  the  physician 
entreated  me  to  cease  preaching,  and  to  rest  henceforth  from  all 
labor.  It  overwhelmed  me  to  think  that  I  should  do  notliing  any 
more  to  make  the  world  better  in  which  I  lived."  "  I  can  ai)preciate 
it,  Bishop,"  Avas  the  reply.  "It  must  be  a  solemn  moment  when  we 
realize  that  our  work  on  earth  is  done,  and   we  fold   it   uj)   for  tlie 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  293 

judgment -day."  "Ah!"  said  he,  "if  I  were  only  permitted  to 
l>reacli  airain,  I  would  endeavor  to  do  it  with  greater  simplicity  and 
impressiveness.  1  would  go  directly  for  the  conscience,  and  seek  to 
bring  sinners  at  once  to  Christ."  "If  it  is  painful  to  you,"  I  vent- 
ured to  suggest,  "to  be  laid  aside  now,  it  must  be  a  comfort  to  reflect 
that  rest  comes  to  you  after  a  long  and  laborious  ministry."  "Yes; 
I  thank  God  that  I  can  look  back  over  sixty  years  of  active  service, 
and  upon  many  tokens  of  tlie  Divine  blessing  upon  it."  After 
awhile  the  conversation  drifted  upon  the  suffering  which  it  i)leased 
the  Master  to  send  upon  his  aged  servant.  "It  is  very  acute,"  said 
he.  "Only  an  hour  before  you  came  in,  it  seemed  as  great  as  I  coidd 
bear."  "It  is  very  mysterious,"  I  rejoined,  "that  we  should  be  let 
out  from  life  tlirougii  so  nnich  suffering."  "  It  is  proper,"  he  added, 
"that  we  should  seek  to  assuage  pain;  but  I  would  not  desire  to  have 
mine  a  particle  less  than  my  Heavenly  Father  wills."  "Bishop,  I 
luive  sometimes  thought  a  Christian  should  be  willing  to  endure  a 
good  deal  of  bodily  pain,  if  he  can  thereby  testify  to  the  holiness 
of  God,  who  will  not  allow  sin  to  go  unreproved  even  in  those 
whom  he  loves  and  saves."  "Ah!  yes,"  replied  he,  "but  the  com- 
plete vindication  of  the  Divine  holiness  is  to  be  found  in  the  suffer- 
ings upon  the  cross.  No  one  can  doubt  this  when  he  looks  there." 
Fearing  to  weary  him,  I  rose  to  take  my  leave.  With  the  sweet 
courtesy  which  has  always  distinguished  this  Christian  gentleman, 
he  followed  me  to  the  door,  leaning  upon  his  staff.  After  express- 
ing satisfaction  at  my  visit,  he  sent  messages  of  love  to  the  ministers 
of  his  Church  in  New  Orleans.  "Remember  me  to  Bishop  Keener, 
to  Drs.  Parker,  Walker,  and  Matthews,  and  tell  them  I  am  very 
near  the  other  shore,  and  I  think  I  know  tiie  landings."  "  Yes 
Bishop,  and  the  landing  is  very  safe."  "Blessed  be  God,"  he  re- 
plied, "  I  know  the  landing  on  tlie  other  side,  and  it  is  safe."  Thus, 
after  the  lapse  of  eighteen  hundred  years,  from  the  lips  of  this 
Christian  patriarch  falls  the  echo  of  Paul's  cheerful  testimony:  "I 
know  whom  I  have  believed,  and  am  persuaded  that  He  is  able  to 
Koep  that  wliich  I  have  committed  unto  Him  against  that  day.  " 

B.  M.  Palmer. 


294  LIFE  OF   ROBERT    RAINE,   D.D. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

"XoTES  OF  Life" — Wesley  Hall — A  Fraternal  Meeting. 

IN  1881,  while  suffering  from  the  malady  which  was  taking 
his  very  life's  blood  and  bringing  him  by  steps  slow  and 
painful  to  the  grave,  and  while  nervous  and  feeble  as  an  in- 
fant, he  wrote  for  the  Nashville  Christian  Advocate  the  series 
of  articles  under  the  head  of  "  Notes  of  Life."  They  were 
copied  in  nearly  all  the  Church  papers,  and  read  with  thrill- 
ing interest  by  thousands.  They  seemed  almost  like  mes- 
sages from  the  spirit  land.  He  show^ed  all  the  vigor  of  style, 
and  elegance  yet  simplicity  of  diction,  which  had  charac- 
terized the  productions  of  his  matured  manhood  and  when 
in  vigor  of  bodily  health.  In  May  he  went  to  the  Bishops' 
meeting  at  Nashville,  and  attended  a  District  Conference 
at  Hobson's  Chapel.  He  dedicated  Wesley  Hall  and  made 
a  speech  on  the  occasion,  of  which  this  is  a  brief  report : 

"'This  day,'  said  he,  'makes  a  new  era  in  the  history 
of  the  Church.  It  is  a  day  to  be  noted  in  our  calendar. 
I  thank  God  that  I  have  lived  to  see  it,  and  to  feel  the  in- 
spiration of  this  occasion.  Like  the  holy  Simeon,  though 
I  feel  unworthy  to  use  my  name  in  connection  with  his, 
I  can  say  with  a  full  heart.  Nunc  dimittis.'  The  ven- 
erable Bishop  then  briefly  reviewed  the  situation  in  the 
South  at  the  close  of  the  war,  and  drew  a  graphic  and  touch- 
ing picture  of  it  as  it  lay  bleeding  and  prostrate.  '  It  was 
at  this  juncture,'  he  said,  'that  the  gift  of  Commodore  Cor- 
nelius Vanderbilt  came  as  a  beam  of  light  in  the  great  dark- 
ness. The  founding  of  Vanderbilt  LTniversity  was  the  ful- 
fillment of  long  cherished  hojies,  and  it  was  the  answer  to 
many  prayers.'  The  Bishop  spoke  with  great  feeling,  and 
as  he  warmed  with   his  theme  his  feeble  frame  seemed  tt) 


IJISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CIIUKC'H,  SOUTH.  295 

grow  strong  and  his  tremulous  tones  pealed  out  with  the  old 
martial  ring."  * 

He  was  satisfied  now  to  depart  and  he  with  Christ,  for  his 
eyes  had  seen  the  eomj)leti()n  of  a  hall  in  whieh  for  gener- 
ations to  come  the  young  disciples  of  Christ  were  to  he  pre- 
pared for  the  great  work  of  the  ministry.  As  he  looked 
upon  this  child  of  the  Church,  with  holy  reverence  he 
adopted  the  language  of  Simeon  upon  the  dedication  of  the 
child  Jesus:  "Now, Lord,  lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in 
peace,  for  mine  eyes  htxvc  seen  thy  salvation."  He  was  able 
to  attend  but  two  Conferences  during  this  year.  Feeble 
und  suffering,  he  presided  at  the  Memphis  Conference  held 
at  Bolivar,  Tenn.  "At  this  Conference  a  resolution  was 
adopted  unanimously,  all  standing — the  Secretary  putting 
the  question — expressive  of  the  sentiments  of  the  brethren 
in  regard  to  the  venerable  presiding  Bishop,  Paine,  the  object 
of  the  reverence  and  love  of  the  members,  old  and  young: 

Besolved,  Tliat  we  are  devoutly  tliankful  to  God  tliat  in  liis  prov- 
idence lie  has  spared  our  beloved  and  venerable  senior  Bishop — the 
Rev.  Robert  Paine — to  visit  ns  once  more  as  a  Conference,  and  that 
he  has  Ijeen  enabled  to  preside  with  so  much  ability  and  satisfaction ; 
and  we  pray  that  the  blessings  of  the  great  Head  of  the  Church  may 
strengthen  and  sustain  him  in  his  declining  life,  and  bring  him  in 
peace  to  his  grave  and  in  blessed  triumph  to  heaven. 

T.  L.  BoswELL,       J.  D.  Rush,       T.  IT.  Evans. 

"  Rev.  T.  L.  Boswell  delivered  to  the  Bishop  a  very  touch- 
ing farew  ell  address.  To  this  address  the  Bishop,  sitting  in 
his  chair,  made  a  most  tender  response  touching  all  hearts. 
A  beautiful  picture  will  that  service  long  remain  hanging 
in  a  choice  place  in  memory's  gallery.  Hope,  rich  and 
mellow,  was  the  experience  of  our  dear  Bishop  all  through 
the  session,  as  shown  in  frequent  utterances  of  lessons  full 
of  wisdc^n  and  love.  His  words  were  those  of  one  speaking 
back  to  us  from  the  land  of  rest  and  peace."  f 

*Xashville  Chrinfiaii  Advocate,     f  Il)id. 


296  LIFE  OF   ROBEIIT   PAINE,   D.D. 


In  January,  1882,  while  Bishop  Peck  of  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church,  was  holding  a  colored  Conference  in 
Aberdeen,  Miss.,  he  was  invited  by  Bishop  Paine  to  pay 
him  a  friendly  social  visit  and  dine  with  him.  Other  min- 
isterial friends  were  invited  to  meet  the  Bishop  and  dine 
also.  Among  them  was  the  Rev.  A.  D.  McVoy,  President 
of  the  Aberdeen  Female  College,  who  gives  the  following 
account  of  what  took  place  on  that  very  interesting  occasion : 

SYRACUSE  AND  ABERDEEN— A  FRATERNAL  SCENE. 

The  meeting  of  Bishop  Jesse  T.  Peck  with  Bishop  Robert  Paine 
was  no  ordinary  occasion.  They  were  together  in  the  General  Con- 
ference of  1844,  and  to-day,  .January  21,  1882,  Bishop  Peck  Avas  in- 
vited by  Bishop  Paine  to  dine  with  him.  They  liad  not  seen  each 
other  in  thirty-eight  years.  Rev.  J.  C.  Hartzell,  D.D.,  of  New  Or- 
leans, accompanied  Bishop  Peck  by  invitation.  The  resident  min- 
isters of  the  Methodist  and  Presbyterian  Churches,  together  with 
Rev.  Amos  Kendall,  presiding  elder  of  the  Aberdeen  District,  were 
also  present.  Bishop  Peck  was  presiding  over  the  Mississippi  Con- 
ference (colored),  now  in  session  at  this  place.  It  was  a  privilege  to 
listen  to  the  conversation  of  these  venerable  servants  of  God.  How 
vividly  they  recalled  their  former  days,  when  they  were  young  and 
active  in  the  service.  Naturally  their  minds  Avent  back  to  the  mem- 
orable Conference  of  1844,  and  they  dwelt  amid  those  eventful 
scenes,  little  dreaming,  as  Bishop  Paine  remarked,  that  they  were 
making  history  the  outcome  of  which  would  be  so  large  and  so  im- 
portant to  the  people  of  this  nation. 

The  speech  of  Bishop  Pierce  was  recalled  when  he  said:  "Let 
New  England  go;  she  has  been  a  thorn  in  our  flesh  long  enough." 
To  which  lUshop  Peck  replied:  "New  England  cannot  be  spared, 
nor  South  Carolina,  nor  Georgia,  nor  any  other  Southern  State." 
Then  the  rejoinder  of  Bishop  Pierce  in  which  he  said  tliat  possibly 
he  had  been  too  severe,  but  that  he  meant  no  offense;  and  as  for 
Bishop  Peck,  he  said:  "1  Avould  not  by  my  remarks  rufile  one  single 
hair  on  the  top  of  his  head."  As  Bishop  Peck  was  l)ald  even  then, 
tliis  humorous  reply  was  received  by  the  large  assembly  with  [)eals 
3f  laughter.  At  the  table  Bishop  Peck  remarked  that  he  onjoyod 
richly  Bishop  Pierce's  pleasantry. 


lilSHOP  OF  THE  M.   E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  297 


Bishop  Peck  referred  to  the  pleasure  it  ahvavs  gave  to  see  a  man, 
especially  a  nnnistcr,  j^o  down  the  hill  of  life  gracefully,  cheerfully, 
and  happily;  an<l  alhuled  to  Bishop  Scott  of  his  own  Church  as  af- 
fording an  illustration  of  what  he  meant.     Bishop  Paine  contntsted 
the  experience  of  two  aged  ministers  he  had  heard  bid  farewell  to 
their  respectiye  CV.nferences-the  one  going  down  sad  and  despondent 
about  earthly  matters;  the  other  a  greater  sufferer  from  adverse  cir- 
cumstances, but  buoyant,  cheerful,  and  hopeful.     Bishop  Peck  there- 
upon related  the  anecdote  of  the  elder  Adams,  when  in  his  old  ao-e 
he  said:  "This  tenement  in  which  I  have  lived  so  long  is  going  i.Uo 
dilapidation,  and  as  the  owner  does  not  propose  to  repair  it,  1  am 
making  my  arrangements  to  move  out."     Bishop  Paine  remarked- 
I  have  long  since  lost  all  fear  of  death.     I  have  passed  that  point 
lorever.     Death  has  lost  all  its  terrors  for  me.     I  know  no  moment 
except  when  asleep,  that  I  am  not  racked  with  pain.     It  is  a  gre-it 
deprivation  to  be  held  in  forced  inactivity  when  there  is  .so  much 
to  be  done  for  the  Master;  but  the  Lord  knows  best,  and  I  submit 
without  a  murmur  to  his  will."     "Yes,"  replied  Bishop  Peck,  "I 
know  of  your  great  labors  in  which   the   Lord  has  blessed  you  so 
abundantly,  and  I  rejoice  to  find  you  too  going  down  life's  journey  so 
gracefully,  cheerfully,  and  hopefully." 

Dinner  was  announced,  and  around  the  inviting  board  the  conver- 
sation  ran  on  various  topics.     Bishop  Peck  spoke  of  his  home  in 
Syracuse,  and  of  his  wife  there  who  bid  him  Godspeed  on  his  South- 
em  tour;  and  turning  to  Mrs.  Paine,  he  expressed  what  great  pleas- 
ure it  woirld  give  him  to  entertain  her  and  her  husband  in  his  Svra- 
cusan  home.     He  remarked  that  as  he  passed  through  Nashville  he 
looked  with  pride  upon  the  great  Publishing  House  and  the  stately 
\  anderbilt.     He  entertained  his  little  audience  with  an  account  of 
his  travels  through  Europe,  of  the  Ecumenical,  of  the  Conferences 
he  held,  and  especially  of  the  great  work  in  Sweden  and  Norway 
On  our  return  to  the  parlor,  and  the  time  approaching  for  his  return 
to  the  cabinet.  Bishop  Paine  requested  a  word  of  praver  from  him 
before  they  parted,  in  all  probability  never  to  see  each  other  again 
on  earth.     Standing  before  the  fire  by  the  side  of  Bishop  Paine 
while  we  all  stood  around,  he  announced  that  he  would  sing  these 
beautiful  word.s,  "My  latest  sun  is  sinking  fa.st,  my  race  is  nearly 
run  "  etc.,  to  the  tune  of  Land  of  Bculah;  and  with  a  Hrm  and  mellow 
and  pleasant  voice  he  sung  through  one  verse  and  the  chorus  "Come 


298  LIFE  OF   ROBERT   PAINE,  D.D. 

angel  band,"  etc.,  in  which  we  all  earnestly  and  feelingly  joined. 
There  they  stood,  Bishop  Paine  just  past  his  eighty  -  second  year, 
and  Bishop  Peck  his  seventy-second,  singing  together  their  parting 
song.  Then  we  knelt  in  prayer,  and  Bishop  Peck  poured  out  his  soul 
in  earnest  and  fervent  supplication  for  his  venerable  brother  in  the 
gospel,  for  his  family,  for  the  ministers  present,  and  for  the  spread  of 
the  gospel  all  over  this  Southern  land  as  well  as  throughout  the 
world.  Then  came  the  parting  scene,  and  Bishop  Peck  took  leave 
of  one  and  all,  remarking  how  much  he  had  enjoyed  this  delightful 
reunion  with  his  good  brother  Bishop  Paine. 

Bishop  Peck  preached  Sabbath  night,  in  the  ^Methodist  Church 
here,  a  strong  gospel  sermon  to  a  large  and  interested  audience.  At 
the  close  he  sent  his  compliments  to  the  choir,  remarking  how  much 
he  enjoyed  the  exceedingly  beautiful  and  grand  music  of  the  occa- 
sion; and  on  parting,  he  said  to  Miss  Ludie  Paine,  the  Bi&hop's 
daughter:  "Give  my  love  to  the  Bishop,  and  tell  him  I  shall  long 
remember  yesterday's  interview;  and  as  long  as  I  live  I  will  cherish 
his  letter  of  invitation  over  his  own  signature,  as  among  my  most 
valued  and  choicest  treasures."  A.  D.  McVoy. 

Aberdeen,  Mis?.,  Jan.  23,  1882. 

He  contioued  exceedingly  feeble  and  was  really  unable 
to  do  any  thing  but  suffer.  We  find  this  mournful  entry  on 
February  15,  1882:  "William  May  Wightman  is  dead! 
He  was  a  good  and  great  man.  Born  January  29,  1808,  in 
Charleston,  S.  C.  Aged  seventy-four  years  and  one  month, 
less  one  week.  A  cultured,  consecrated  life;  a  peaceful 
death."  He,  however,  left  home  in  April,  1882,  for  the 
General  Conference  in  Nashville,  Tenn.  He  stood  the  trip 
pretty  well.  After  the  reading  of  the  Bishops'  quadrennial 
address,  a  scene  occurred  in  the  General  Conference  rarely 
equaled  for  deep  solemnity  and  the  exhibition  of  the  no- 
blest and  tenderest  Christian  feeling.  It  was  on  the  pres- 
entation of  Bishop  Paine's  request  to  be  relieved  froui 
active  service.     But  we  reserve  this  for  our  next  chapter. 


Bisnor  OF  THE  m.  e.  ciiukcii,  south.  299 


CHAPTER   XLIII. 

Bishop  Paine  Retiring — Dr.  McFerrin's  Speech — Bishop 
Pierce's  Address — Great  Feeling — Death  of  T.  O.  Sum- 
mers— Ordaining  New  Bishops — Returning  Home  to  Die. 

BISHOP  PAINE  delivered  the  following  address,  request- 
ing to  be  placed  on  the  retired  list,  at  the  General  Con- 
ference in  Nashville,  May,  1882: 

"Dear  Brethren:  While  joining  heartily  with  my  col- 
leagues in  the  address  you  have  heard,  I  beg  your  indul- 
gence to  make  a  few  remarks  of  a  personal  character. 
During  nearly  sixty-five  years,  I  have  had  the  honor  of  be- 
ing an  itinerant  Methodist  preacher,  and  for  thirty-six  a 
Bishop.  In  the  General  Conference  of  1824  I  was  a  dele- 
gate, and  as  Bishop  or  delegate  I  have  attended  every  session 
since  then.  For  the  confidence  in  my  reliability,  indicated  by 
these  facts,  I  wish  now^  to  return  my  most  earnest  gratitude. 
To  my  much  respected  colleagues  in  the  episcopacy,  between 
whom  and  myself  the  utmost  cordial  feelings  have  been  unva- 
ryingly maintained,  I  tender  my  thanks.  They  have  gener- 
ously supplied  my  lack  of  service  by  doing  double  duty. 
And  now,  beloved  brethren,  worn  down  with  age  and  in- 
firmities, I  ask  to  be  permitted  to  retire  from  further  active 
service.  Permit  me,  in  conclusion,  to  congratulate  you 
upon  the  auspicious  circumstances  under  which  you  have 
met,  and  to  remind  you  of  your  responsibility  to  God  and 
to  his  Church.  Should  it  be  allowed  me,  in  making  this 
probably  my  last  communication  to  a  General  Conference, 
to  express  the  results  of  my  experience  and  observations  as 
to  the  doctrines  and  polity  of  our  beloved  Methodism,  J 


300  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 

would  say,  after  devoting  a  life-time  to  the  study  of  its  doc- 
trines, my  conviction  as  to  their  scripturalness  has  strength- 
ened and  my  estimation  of  the  importance  of  maintaining 
the  essential  features  of  its  polity  has  increased.  I  do  most 
devoutly  thank  God  that  in  early  life  I  became  an  itiner- 
ant Methodist  preacher,  and  have  continued  such.  But 
above  all,  I  rejoice  in  the  religious  experience  which  jNIeth- 
odism  presents  as  the  privilege  of  its  members,  and  the  'joy 
unspeakable  and  full  of  glory.'  To  enjoy  this  is  the  crown- 
ing glory  of  the  Christian  life.  I  rejoice  in  a  thorough  con- 
version, consciously  attested  by  the  witnessing  Spirit,  a  pure 
and  consecrated  daily  life,  and  its  end — if  it  can  properly  be 
said  ever  to  end — the  crown  of  glory  that  fadeth  not  away. 
For  this  culmination  I  shall  beg  calmly  and  with  humble 
confidence  to  wait  until  the  pains  and  infirmities  of  this 
life  shall  pass  away.     There  may  we  meet  again ! " 

Long  before  the  venerable  Bishop  had  ceased  reading  the 
above,  nearly  all  the  members  of  the  Conference  were  in 
tears.  No  one  who  was  present  will  ever  forget  the  affect- 
ing scene.  When  the  address  was  finished  the  following 
verses  were  sung  with  deep  feeling : 

Through  many  dangers,  toils,  and  snares 

I  have  already  come; 
'T  is  grace  has  brought  me  safe  thus  far, 

And  grace  will  lead  me  home. 

The  Lord  has  promised  good  to  me — 

His  word  my  hope  secures; 
He  will  my  shield  and  portion  be 

As  long  as  life  endures. 

Yea,  when  this  flesli  and  heart  shall  fail, 

And  mortal  life  shall  cease, 
I  shall  possess,  within  the  veil, 

A  life  of  joy  and  peace. 

In  tones  indicating  strong  emotion  the  venerable  It.ev. 
Dr.  John  B.  McFerrin  said : 


BISHOP  OF  Tin:  m.  e.  church,  south.  301 


"  I  am  too  much  overcome  to  take  into  consideration 
tlie  paper  read  by  the  senior  Bishop.  Tliere  should  be 
a  proper  response  j)repar('<l  and  offered  to  tlie  Bishop  in 
the  presence  of  the  Conference.  Our  esteemed  and  dis- 
tiniruished  brother  —  I  might  say  father  —  has  been  long 
with  us,  \vas  once  a  member  of  the  Tennessee  Conference, 
and  has  belonged  to  no  other  Conference  but  the  Tennessee 
Conference.  He  is  one  of  the  few  men — two  or  three — 
that  voted  to  receive  me  into  the  Conference  many  long 
years  ago.  It  has  been  my  privilege  in  my  humble  way  to 
be  associated  with  him  for  more  than  fifty  years.  He  al- 
ways won  the  esteem  of  every  member  of  the  Conference. 
We  all  loved  him,  we  always  loved  him,  and  since  he  has 
been  elevated  to  the  episcopacy  we  have  always  claimed 
him  as  a  Tennessee  Bishop.  He  has  been  in  all  our  hearts, 
and  we  want  to  live  with  him  and  to  die  with  him.  While 
I  say  nothing  to  disparage  any  other  Conference,  nor  dis- 
pute the  claims  of  any  other,  still  I  hope  when  God  calls 
the  spirit  away  his  body  may  be  brought  to  Nashville  and 
be  buried  here,  at  the  city  where  he  commenced  his  work. 
We  love  him  greatly,  and  all  the  Church  loves  him.  I 
should  like  to  say  much  more,  but  my  feelings  will  not  al- 
low me." 

Bishop  Pierce  then  said : 

^'Beloved  Brother:  Your  colleagues  and  brethren  i-e- 
joice  to  see  you  among  them.  We  consider  your  pres- 
ence a  benediction.  It  seems  to  me  to  be  a  beautiful  jirov- 
idence  that  you  should  have  commenced  your  itinerant 
career  sixty-five  years  ago  at  this  very  point,  and  that  after 
concluding  that  circle  of  labors  you  are  here  in  the  pres- 
ence of  your  brethren,  asking  from  them  retirement  from 
active  service.  Bless  God  that  he  has  given  to  us  your 
service  so  long!  that  he  has  spared  you  to  attend  this  Con- 
ference.    But  while  you  cannot  go  forth  in  the  Master's 


B02  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 


work,  we  may  profit  by  your  counsel,  and  rejoice  in  Chris- 
tian fellowship  with  you.  We  do  bless  God  that  now,  that 
in  the  sunset  of  your  life,  you  are  among  us,  and  that  when 
your  sun  shall  go  down  you  will  pass  into  that  heaven 
made  glorious  by  the  memories  of  the  past,  and  the  joys  of 
the  future.     God  bless  you ! " 

The  Bishop  was  much  affected  by  the  death  of  Dr.  T.  O. 
Summers,  w^hich  occurred  almost  at  the  beginning  of  the 
Conference.  Dr.  Summers  was  a  man  of  varied  learning, 
and  of  great  versatility  of  talents.  He  was  good  and  true, 
and  his  death,  so  unexpected,  w^as  a  grief  to  the  whole 
Church.  Bishop  Paine  had  been  most  intimately  associat- 
ed with  him,  and  loved  him  greatly. 

He  took  a  lively  interest  in  the  work  of  the  Conference, 
and  presided  a  short  time  on  May  8.  He  remained  at  Nash- 
ville in  a  suffering  and  feeble  condition  until  after  the  elec- 
tion of  the  Bishops.  He  led  in  the  solemn  services,  and 
laid  his  trembling  hands  upon  the  heads  of  Alpheus  W. 
Wilson,  Linus  Parker,  John  C.  Granbery,  and  Robert  Ken- 
non  Hargrove,  consecrating  them  as  Bishops  in  the  Meth- 
odist Episcopal  Church,  South.  It  may  be  a  pleasure  to 
those  Bishops  to  know  what  the  Bishop  wrote  in  his  diary 
concerning  them.  He  wrote  two  Avords  only,  but  they  are 
like  apples  of  gold  in  pictures  of  silver :  "  Good  and  true'' 
Such  words  from  such  a  man  are  worth  more  to  the  new 
Bishops  than  volumes  of  fulsome  praise.  Feeling  unable 
to  remain  longer  at  the  General  Conference,  he  returned 
home  on  May  18.  He  was  follow^ed  out  of  the  Conference- 
room  by  a  few  devoted  friends,  among  whom  were  Captain 
S.  H.  Dent,  of  Eufaula,  Alabama,  a  delegate,  and  Dr.  John 
W.  Hauner,  sr.  He  talked  like  one  inspired — so  full  of 
his  theme  he  did  not  seem  to  notice  his  old  friend  Dr. 
Hanner.  His  wife,  so  tender  of  him  and  so  careful  of  oth- 
ers, called  his  attention  to  Dr.  Hanner.     The  Bishop  turned 


BISIIOF  OF  THE  M.  E.  rilURCII,  SOUTH.  .S03 


to  him  M'itli  tlie  deepest  feeling,  and  holding  out  liis  trem- 
bling hand,  which  was  grasi)ed  lovingly  by  Ilanner,  he 
said :  "John,  I  will  soon  be  home ;  I  am  almost  there.  John, 
you  must  meet  me  in  heaven.  Farewell!  We'll  meet 
asraiu." 


304  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,  D.D. 


CHAPTER    XLIV. 

Closing  Scenes — Triumphant  to  the  Last. 

HE  never  again  entered  the  room  of  the  General  Confer- 
ence.    In  an  incredibly  short  time  he  is  again  at  home, 
receiving  all  the  tender  care  so  grateful  in  his  deep  affliction. 

On  Sunday,  May  28,  he  writes :  "  Bright,  sweet  Sunday ; 
but  I  can't  go  to  preaching.  Trying  to  search  myself  I 
feel  no  great  glow  of  religious  joy,  but  a  calm,  humble  trust 
in  the  mercy  of  God  through  my  Redeemer.  My  family 
cares  sometimes  harass  me,  but  I  try  to  lay  them  all  on  the 
arm  of  Almighty  Power  and  Infinite  Love.  I  know  that  I 
was  converted,  and  that  I  now  love  my  God ;  but  I  want  the 
fiillness  of  the  gospel  of  Christ.  I  want  perfect  love,  con- 
sciously attested  by  the  Holy  Spirit.     O  give  me  this ! " 

Although  suffering  so  much,  he  still  gave  his  Christian 
sympathies  to  those  in  sorrow.  On  October  3  he  penned 
the  following  letter  to  Brother  Brooks,  of  the  North  Mis- 
sissippi Conference.  He  had  been  a  great  favorite  in  the 
family  of  Brother  Brooks,  had  baptized  his  children,  and 
had  ever  been  the  honored  and  welcome  guest  in  his  family. 
One  of  the  children  had  died,  and  learning  of  the  sad  event 
the  Bishop,  with  all  the  love  of  a  tender-hearted  John, 
sent  the  bereaved  family  these  words  of  sympathy  and  con- 
solation : 

Aberdeen,  Miss.,  Oct.  8,  1882. 

Dear  Brother  Brooks:  I  have  wanted  to  write  you  a  word  of  Cliris- 
tian  condolence  and  sympathy  on  tlie  decease  of  your  precious 
daughter,  but  have  been  too  sick ;  having  mended  a  little  lately,  I 
feel  tliat  I  must  do  so  to-dav.     We  too  have  sufTl'rod,  and  know  your 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  305 

feelinu:s.  Let  us  endure  to  the  end.  Mine  must  he  near,  and  tliank 
God  I  helieve  it  will  he  a  happy  one.  We  ean't  give  up  the  hattle 
now — fought  too  long  to  surrender  on  the  eve  of  final  victory. 
Wife  and  fantily  join  in  nuieh  love  and  eojidolenee.  May  we  and 
all  ours  meet  in  tlie  l)etter  land! 

Your  old  friend  and  hrother  in  Jesus,  K.  Paine. 

He  was  now  coiitined  i)ernianeiitly  to  the  house,  and  never 
passed  a  day  without  suffering.  He  noted  the  death  of  Sen- 
ator Ben,  Hill,  of  Georgia,  as  pro<^luced  by  cancer  of  tlie 
tongue.  "A  great  statesman,  a  peerless  orator,  a  sound 
Meth(xlist  Christian."  He  made  note  also  of  the  comet 
which  ap})eared  in  the  autumn  of  1882. 

He  had  always  loved  astronomy.  While  on  circuits,  dis- 
tricts, and  stations  he  studied  this  sublime  science  in  his  ear- 
ly manhood.  His  birth  was  on  the  night  of  November  12, 
1799,  made  memorable  by  a  shower  of  meteors.  In  1833, 
at  Pulaski,  Tenn.,  during  Conference,  he  had  Avitnessed  these 
celestial  fire-works  with  an  enthusiasm  and  an  apprehension 
of  their  true  character  which  calmed  the  fears  of  all  who 
listened  to  his  words  of  wisdom  and  learning.  Now  as  he 
was  closing  his  career  a  magnificent  comet  could  be  seen  in 
the  early  morning  sky.  Feeble  as  he  was,  he  must  see  this 
strange  visitor.  So  with  the  assistance  of  his  devoted  wife 
and  ever  faithful  daughter  Ludie,  he  was  made  ready  at  three 
o'clock  A.M.,  and  was  permitted  to  enjoy  the  sight.  He  then 
wrote  in  his  diary:  "The  comet,  pretty  as  a  dream,  seems 
nearly  stationary,  but  is  going  from  us  east,  not  to  reappear 
in  three  thousand  five  hundred  years.  Where  shall  we  be 
then?  In  heaven,  I  hope.  God's  works  glorious.  Hope  to 
understand  them  better  in  heaven."  On  October  9,  his  spir- 
itual birthday,  he  writes :  "  Sixty-five  years  ago,  three  o'clock 
P.M.,  at  Davis  Brown's,  Giles  county,  Tennessee,  I  was  par- 
doned and  born  again,  my  heart  and  life  changed.  I  do  not 
tliink  tliat  I  have  since  then  wicke<^l]y  departed  from  God. 
20 


306  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,  D.D. 

I  joined  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  and  shortly  after 
commenced  to  preach.  I  have  tried  to  do  my  duty.  Would 
be  a  Methodist  preacher  had  I  my  life  to  go  over  again. 
Thanks  forever,  almost  home!" 

Just  a  few  days  before  this  he  wrote  his  last  letter.  It 
was  to  his  old  friend  Dr.  John  B.  McFerrin,  and  was  in 
these  words : 

I  have  suffered  much  since  General  Conference — better  for  a  few- 
days  past.  Have  still  on  hand  a  few  "  Notes  of  Life,"  written  with 
trembling  nerves.  They  need  revision.  Perhaps  if  I  improve  T  may 
])repare  them  and  add  others;  but  I  confess  I  doubt  if  I  shall  ever 
be  able  to  write  much  more.  Thank  God,  I  have  no  anxiety  upon 
this  or  any  other  matters.     All  I  desire  is  more  of  God's  grace. 

E.  Paine. 

Day  and  night  suffering  as  few  men  of  his  age  could  suf- 
fer, he  continued  uttering  words  of  wisdom,  enough  almost 
to  fill  a  volume.  He  was  never  able  to  revise  his  "  Notes 
of  Life,"  or  to  add  another  line  to  them.  He  continued  in 
bed,  at  intervals  reading  the  Bible  and  conversing  pleasant- 
ly and  hopefully  with  his  family,  until  on  the  night  of  tne 
18th  of  October,  1882,  he  became  unconscious.  On  the  19th 
he  breathed  his  last,  and  his  pure  spirit  was  borne  to  heaven 
at  about  four  o'clock  a.m.  His  departure  was  as  quiet  and 
calm  as  his  career  had  been  trustful,  and  his  whole  life  from 
the  age  of  eighteen  had  been  dedicated  to  God  and  his  work. 

The  following  graphic  account  of  his  last  moments  and 
of  his  funeral  is  given  by  his  friend  and  son  in  the  gospel 
the  Bev.  Bobert  Paine  Mitchell,  who  was  with  him  often, 
and  wrote  down  his  last  utterances  at  the  time : 

"  On  AYednesday,  the  18th  instant,  at  about  one  o'clock  p.m., 
ho  became  speechless,  and  as  we  supposed  was  in  a  dying 
condition,  and  indeed  thought  he  would  not  live  more  than 
one  hour;  but  he  rallied  a  little  about  nine  o'clock  at  night, 
and  we  began  to  hope  that  he  w'ould  yet  recover  conscious- 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  (HUIU'II,  SOUTH.  307 


iicys,  and  be  able  to  talk  to  us,  but  he  began  to  sink  attain 
about  two  o'elock,  and  lingered  until  about  twenty-nine  min- 
utes past  four  A.]\r.,  when  quietly  and  without  a  struggle, 
like  an  infant  in  its  mother's  arms,  he  fell  '  asleep  in  Jesus,' 
and  his  freed  spirit  winged  its  way  to  the  bright  world. 
His  last  days  were  full  of  peace  and  holy  triumph.     Al- 
most a  book  could  be  filled  with  expressions  of  wisdom  as 
well  as  joy  which  fell  from  his  lips  during  the  last  few 
months  of  his  life.     The  writer  visited  him  two  days  before 
his  death,  and  these  were  the  last  words  he  ever  heard  him 
utter:  'Brother,  I  am  at  perfect  peace  with  God  and  all 
mankind.     I  can  trust  my  Heavenly  Father  implicitly.     I 
have  no  anxiety  about  the  future.'     On  the  9th  of  October, 
his  spiritual  birthday,  he  made  in  his  diary  a  triumj^hant 
and  thankful  record,  and  the  last  record,  nervously  traced 
by  his  trembling  hand,  was,  'Almost  home,  thank  God!' 
Among  the  last  expressions  before  he  became  speechless 
was  a  repetition  of  the  long  meter  doxology,  'Praise  God, 
from  whom  all  blessings  flow,'  etc. ;  and  thus  in  his  very  last 
hours  he  gave  strong  evidence  of  his  abiding  confidence  in 
God.     When  speaking  of  dying,  he  always  said,  'I  have  no 
fear  of  death  as  to  its  results,  but  I  dread  the  physical  suf- 
fering which  must  attend  the  dissolution  of  soul  and  body,' 
and  frequently  asked  his  friends  to  pray  that  he  might  he 
delivered  from  great  bodily  suffering  in  his  last  moments. 
God  graciously  spared  him  all  pain ;  there  was  not  a  struf--- 
gle  or  groan.     As  soon  as  he  was  dead  Bishop  ]\IcTyeire  was 
notified  by  telegraph,  and  requested  to  attend  his  funeral. 
He*  reached  Aberdeen  on  Friday  night,  and  the  funeral- 
services  were  held  in  church  on  Saturday  at  twelve  o'clock. 
The  Bishop  was  assisted  by  Revs.  Amos  Kendall,  presiding 
elder  of  the  district,  A.  D.  McVoy,  S.  A.  Steele,  John  H. 
Scruggs,  R  G.  Porter,  and  the  writer.     Brothers  Kendall. 
Scruggrs,  McVoy,  Steele,  Porter,  Long,  Kilgore,  and  H.  B. 


m()8  life  of  ROBERT  PAINE,  D.D. 

Scruggs  acted  as  pall-bearers.  The  church  was  haudsomely 
and  tasteftilly  draped  for  the  occasion.  Just  back  of  the  pul- 
pit, midway  between  the  floor  and  the  ceiling,  encircled  by 
a  wreath  of  flowers,  were  printed  these  tender  words,  *  Our 
Bishop,'  and  underneath  the  book-board  on  the  front  of  the 
pulpit  the  word  '  Rest'  was  woven  in  evergreens  and  flowers, 
and  the  whole  surrounded  with  drapery  significant  of  the 
sorrow  felt  not  only  by  us  here,  but  by  the  whole  Church. 
The  corpse  was  met  at  the  door  of  the  church  by  the  pas- 
tor, and  the  solemn  service  read  as  it  was  borne  down  the 
aisle  to  the  chancel,  when  the  Rev.  J.  H.  Scruggs  announced 
hymn  739,  which  was  rendered  very  feelingly  by  the  choii- ; 
Rev.  R.  G.  Porter  read  the  ninetieth  psalm,  and  Rev.  S. 
A.  Steele  the  fifteenth  of  1  Corinthians,  and  the  choir  sung 
hymn  716,  announced  by  Rev.  A.  D.  McVoy.  The  Bish- 
op's remarks  were  founded  on  Matt.  xvi.  18.  His  discourse 
was  strong  and  comforting,  and  the  delineation  of  the  char- 
acter of  the  deceased  flill  and  complete.  The  spacious  au- 
ditorium of  our  church  was  filled  to  its  utmost  capacity. 
The  poor  of  the  place,  the  merchants,  and  schools  each 
turued  out  in  j^rocession,  thus  showing  the  high  apprecia- 
tion the  community  had  of  this  venerable  man  of  God.  O 
how  we  shall  miss  him,  his  wise  counsels,  his  cheerful  words, 
his  godly  example!  Let  the  Church  everywhere  pray  for 
his  stricken  family.  R.  P.  Mitchell." 

All  that  was  mortal  of  the  great  and  good  man  now  sleeps 
in  the  cemetery  of  Aberdeen.  Dr.  E.  R.  Hendrix  gives  the 
follow^ing  brief  statement,  summing  up  the  progress  of  the 
Church  of  which  he  was  a  pillar  and  an  ornament  for  sixty- 
five  years.  Let  it  not  be  forgotten  that  during  all  these 
years  he  contributed  largely  to  this  prosperity,  and  that  he 
has  now  received  the  welcome,  "  Well  done,  good  and  faith- 
ful servant:" 

"  Bishop  Paine  has  just  '  fallen  asleep '  at  the  ripe  age  of 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  309 

eighty-three.  His  life,  which  began  just  before  the  Odwu 
of  the  present  century,  may  help  to  meiisure  to  some  minds 
what  progress  Christianity  has  made  during  a  single  human 
life.  When  Bishop  Paine  was  born  in  1799  there  were  but 
seven  Protestant  missionary  societies ;  now  there  are  seventy. 
When  he  was  yet  an  infant  there  were  only  one  hundre«)l  and 
seventy  missionaries ;  now^  there  are  over  two  thousand  four 
hundred  ordained  missionaries,  besides  hundreds  of  ordained 
native  preachei*s  and  over  twenty-three  thousand  native  iiclp- 
ers,  catechists,  teachers,  etc.  Then  there  were  not  ovei  fifty 
thousand  converted  heathen  under  the  care  of  evangelical 
missions;  now  there  are  one  million  six  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand.  In  fact,  in  one  year  (1878)  more  souls  were  con- 
verted from  heathenism  than  could  be  found  in  all  the  mis- 
sions when  Robert  Paine  was  born.  Then  the  entire  income 
from  missions  was  less  than  one-quarter  of  a  million  dollars ; 
now  it  reaches  over  six  million.  Then  the  number  of  evangel- 
ical mission-schools  was  seventy ;  to-day  they  are  twelve  thou- 
sand, with  more  than  four  hundred  thousand  students.  Then 
there  had  been  published  five  million  copies  of  the  Bible  in 
fifty  languages ;  to-day  one  hundred  and  forty-eight  million 
copies  may  be  found  in  whole  or  in  part  in  two  hundred  and 
twenty-six  languages  and  dialects.  If  a  single  human  life 
may  witness  such  marvelous  progress  -as  that  in  heathen 
lands,  what  courage  should  possess  every  soldier  of  Christ ! " 


310  LIFE   OF    ROBERT   PAINE,   D.D. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

Summing  Up  of  His  Life  and  Character. 

WE  have  endeavored  carefully  to  give  the  facts  in  a  life 
going  far  beyond  the  usual  limits.  We  have  seen  our 
subject  in  his  boyhood,  youth,  manhood,  and  in  old  age. 
AVe  have  looked  into  his  whole  life  as  a  boy  at  school,  a 
merchant's  clerk,  a  sincere  seeker  of  religion,  a  happy 
Christian,  a  young  preacher  traveling  a  circuit,  stationed 
in  towns,  becoming  presiding  elder  and  a  delegate  to  the 
General  Conference  at  the  age  of  twenty-four  years.  Then 
we  have  seen  him  as  president  of  a  college,  and  finally  as 
Bishop  of  the  Avhole  Church,  doing  efficient  work  for  the 
cause  of  God  for  more  than  sixty  years.  Now  we  are  pre- 
pared to  make  a  brief  summary  of  his  character. 

1.  He  was  a  man  of  indomitable  energy.  He  spent  as 
few  moments  unemployed  as  any  one  we  have  ever  known. 
He  was  the  active  boy,  the  diligent  student,  the  faithful 
preacher,  the  laborious  college  president,  and  the  indefati- 
gable Bishop.  From  the  age  of  eighteen  to  the  time  he  was 
so  worn  by  disease  as  to  be  unable  to  leave  his  home,  he 
was  ever  on  the  go,  "  always  at  work." 

2.  He  was  possessed  of  inflexible  firmness.  He  was  by 
no  means  a  stubborn  man.  His  was  the  firmness  of  a  strong 
will,  and  not  of  violent  passion.  It  was  the'firmness  of  the, 
highest  manhood,  and  was  in  no  respect  akin  to  the  stub- 
bornness of  a  fierce  animal  blinded  by  beastly  passion.  A 
man  taking  jiosition  at  the  dictate  of  passion  is  very  far  re- 
moved from  the  nuin  whose  position  is  taken  and  held  at 


BISHOP  OF  THE  M.  K.  CllUKCH,  SOUTH.  311 

the  dictate  of  reason  and  conscience.  A  stubborn  man 
never  listens  to  the  dictates  of  reason  or  to  the  voice  of 
conscience.  Blinded  by  passion,  he  heeds  not  the  calls  of 
the  higher  princii)Ies  of  liis  nature.  A  man  of  firmness  is 
calm.  No  perturbation  of  disordered  feelings,  no  violence 
of  tyrannical  passion,  sways  or  controls  him.  He  is  gov- 
erned by  principle.  He  is  self-possessed.  He  stands  un- 
moved amid  all  the  chimors  of  appetite  and  the  influences 
beneath  which  the  weak  fall  jn-ostrate.  Such  was  the  firm- 
ness of  Bislioj)  Paine.  It  was  rational.  It  W'as  thoroughly 
conscientious,  and  was  not  in  the  least  produced  by  a  par- 
oxysm of  blind  feeling,  however  deep.  It  was  the  decision 
of  the  self-poised  man,  the  determination  arising  from  calm 
convictions  undisturbed  by  the  perturbations  of  passion. 

3.  He  w^as  as  brave  as  he  w^as  firm.  He  was  a  stranger 
to  fear.  Where  duty  called  there  he  was  found,  in  the 
midst  of  epidemics  or  facing  wrathful  men  threatening  his 
life.  His  courage  led  him  to  be  faithful  to  duty  often  at  the 
risk  of  his  life. 

4.  His  magnanimity  was  of  the  highest  order.  He  was 
never  know^n  to  do  a  little,  mean  thing.  He  was  above  all 
this.  He  would  shoulder  any  *i*esponsibility  demanded  by 
his  position  and  undergo  any  obloquy  to  shield  his  brethren 
from  unjust  reproach. 

5.  Bishop  Paine  was  a  writer  of  far  more  than  ordinary 
merit.  He  was  an  accurate  English  scholar  and  a  good 
rhetorician.  He  seldom  made  a  mistake.  He  became  al- 
most rigid  as  a  critic  from  his  great  desire  as  a  teacher  to 
prevent  his  pupils  from  becoming  extravagant  or  bombastic 
in  their  written  exercises.  He  was  a  great  pruner.  He  re- 
moved all  inappropriate  and  redundant  words.  He  applied 
this  criticism  to  his  own  ])roductions.  His  style  as  a  writer 
was  neat  and  often  elegant,  l)ut  never  gorgeous.  In  ex- 
temporaneous  addresses,  especially  in    his  young  days,  his 


312  LIFE  OF   FvOBERT   PAINE,   D.D. 

powerful  iiuagiuation  may  have  indulged  in  flights  not  in 
accordance  with  the  most  rigid  demands  of  pure  taste;  but 
he  never  allowed  this  to  mar  his  written  productions.  He 
may  therefore  be  justly  classed  among  our  best  writers. 

6.  He  was  great  in  his  attainments.  He  was  a  practical 
"•eolo";ist  of  the  first  class.  Had  he  devoted  himself  entirel  v 
to  this  department,  he  would  have  been  the  equal  of  any 
scientist  in  the  land.  As  it  was,  he  was  the  first  to  foretell 
the  immense  mineral  resources  of  Alabama  and  of  the 
West.  As  a  philosopher,  he  was  not  a  whit  behind  the 
greatest  of  the  age.  He  had  mastered  the  science  of  mind 
and  morals,  and  was  a  most  astute  logician  and  a  splendid 
lecturer. 

7.  He  was  a  gospel  preacher  in  the  fullest  sense  of  that 
word.  He  loved  gospel  themes,  and  he  presented  them 
with  clearness  and  in  demonstration  of  the  Spirit.  He  was 
a  profound  theologian.  In  this  department  he  kept  pace 
with  the  age.  He  not  only  read  and  thoroughly  digested 
Richard  Watson,  John  Wesley,  and  all  the  old  fiithers  of 
Methodism,  but  he  was  familiar  with  the  productions  of  the 
bast  writers  of  this  age  on  the  doctrines  of  our  beloved 
Christianity.  He  read  the  most  recent  commentators  and 
studied  them  thoroughly.  He  read  the  religious  quarter- 
lies both  of  his  own  Church  and  of  other  branches  of  the 
Church.  He  was  among  the  first  to  seciire  any  new  work 
and  to  read  it  with  care  and  full  appreciation.  It  was  this 
constant  reading  and  continuous  exercise  of  his  mental 
])owors  that  kept  up  their  vigor  to  the  last.  He  was  at 
times  a  preacher  fit  to  be  ranked  with  the  greatest  ever  de- 
veloped by  our  holy  Christianity.  He  glowed  with  serai)hic 
fire.  His  clear  and  full  exposition  of  divine  truth ;  his  rigid 
and  masterful  logic;  his  caustic  satire;  his  language  rich, 
chaste,  and  classical;  his  imagination  original,  creative,  and 
cultured;  his  taste  refined  and  almost  faultless;   and  added 


UTSIIOr  OF  THE  M.  E.  CHURCH,  SOUTH.  313 

to  all  this,  a  voice  full,  clear,  and  sonorous,  and  a  heart  all 
alive  with  divine  love,  and  with  the  Holy  Spirit  attending 
every  utterance — all  these,  united  in  one  great  sermon, 
placed  him  among  the  most  gifted  of  sacred  orators,  the 
most  powerful  of  gospel  preachers.  I  have  heard  him  when 
he  seemed  inspired,  and  I  am  sure  that  I  have  not  exag- 
gerated his  great  power  as  a  preacher  of  the  gospel  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

8.  He  was  a  great  Bishop.  He  was  thoroughly  acquaint- 
ed with  ecclesiastical  law,  and  he  had  the  decision  of  chai-- 
acter  which  enabled  him  to  carry  it  out.  He  presided  with 
dignity  and  authority  unmixed  with  the  least  exercise  of 
arl)itrary  power.  He  was  as  free  from  t3'ranny  on  the  one 
hand  as  he  was  from  lack  of  decision  on  the  other.  He 
was  impartial  and  thoroughly  just.  He  understood  his 
duty,  and  he  did  it  in  the  fear  of  God.  A  Methodist  Bishop 
is  invested  with  great  power.  He  could  make  himself  an 
autocrat.  He  could  become  a  source  of  great  evil  by  the 
exercise  of  arbitrary  power.  Then  he  might  do  great  harm 
to  the  Church  by  having  his  favorites  among  the  preachers. 
He  was  neither  arbitrary  nor  partial.  He  was  strong  and 
self-poised.  He  united  the  gentleness  of  a  woman  with  the 
strength  of  the  brightest  Christian  manhood.  Thus  he  was 
a  model  Bishop. 

9.  He  was  a  Christian.  He  was  under  the  baptism  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  for  sixty-five  years,  and  was  thoroughly  conse- 
crated to  the  service  of  God  and  his  Church.  He  had  no  envy 
or  pride,  and  he  was  the  embodiment  of  truth.  He  "  bore  all 
things,  believed  all  things,  hoped  all  things,  endured  all  things, 
never  behaved  himself  unseemly,  and  thought  no  evil."  As  a 
Christian  he  was  bright  and  cheerful.  He  indulged  in  no 
bitterness,  but  grew  sweeter  in  spirit  as  age  and  infirmities  in- 
creased. He  did  not  profess  sanctification,  and  yet  he  had 
the  perfect  love  whi^-li  took  away  all  fear  and  removed  al' 

r  • 


314  LIFE  OF  ROBERT  PAINE,   D.D. 

anxiety — the  perfect  love  which  enabled  him  to  say,  "  I  ara 
almost •  home,"  and  to  say,  "I  know  the  landing  on  the 
other  shore,  and  it  is  safe." 

Such  a  man  was  Bishop  Paine.  As  husband  and  father, 
and  in  all  the  relations  of  life,  he  was  without  a  soil  upon 
his  pjarments — a  perfect  and  an  upright  man,  one  that 
feared  God  and  hated  evil.  He  is  gone,  and  this  picture, 
drawn  by  the  loving  hand  of  an  old  and  devoted  pupil, 
is  now  presented  to  the  Church  as  a  correct  likeness  of 
one  whose  sublime  virtues  should  not  only  excite  our  ad- 
miration and  win  our  love,  but  determine  our  imitation. 
This  picture — in  which  the  utmost  accuracy  has  been 
sought,  and  in  which  the  effort  has  been  made  to  draw  every 
lineament  true  to  the  life — is  now  sent  upon  its  mission  with 
the  prayer  that  thousands  may  be  made  wiser  and  better 
by  its  examination.  It  is  now  before  the  reader.  Gaze 
upon  it  until  the  majesty  of  the  great  original  shall  so  im- 
2^ress  you  that  you  will  feel  that  you  are  in  close  company 
with  the  model  Bishop,  the  pure  Christian,  the  j)owerful 
preacher,  the  eminent  servant  of  God.  In  this  comj^any  I 
leave  you. 


The  End. 


